Movie Script Ending
by hulucthulhu
Summary: Castiel and Dean try to figure out their feelings for each other, and attempt to pursue a relationship. But things never really go as planned. Dating, fluffy, scary stuff, sexy stuff. lots of stuff.
1. Chapter 1

Dean stood in front of the bathroom mirror scrutinizing his appearance one last time.

Shaved? Check.  
>Showered? Check.<br>Hair combed and styled to an effortless appearance? Check.  
>Good underwear, you know, just in case? Check.<p>

"Alright buddy, it's show time." He practiced his signature Dean Winchester-panty-dropping smile. Tonight as his body buzzed with nervousness, it didn't seem as if the smile would help him get lucky this time. It was his first honest-to-god date since he got out of high school. He didn't have time for dates, he just worked his charms and bought them drinks and left before they could find him again. This was something special. With someone special. Maybe just one more check.

His hands were shoved in his pockets, fidgeting with the contents. He wasn't this nervous going up against any monster he'd ever fought. Not even arc-angels. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath of the cold air. It filled him up, cooling his red hot anxiety. There was a rustling sound, just the breeze in the dried leaves.

"Dean."

His eyes shot open.

"Jesus, Cas. You startled me."

"Are you alright, Dean? Did I not come in time for our appointment?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. You're on time. I mean, is it possible for angels to be fashionably late?" he chuckled nervously.

"We don't have 'fashion,' Dean. We wear whatever is convenient while in our vessel, and our true forms aren't in need of garments."

"Right, right. What movie did you want to see? There's that uh, date movie out, a romantic comedy."

"What about this one?" Castiel pointed to the poster of the most recent superhero flick, Dean's eyebrows raised ."I would like to see what humans see as 'heroic,'" his fingers waggled quote marks in the air.

"Yeah, sure. That doesn't start for an hour though. I guess we have some time to kill," Dean shifted nervously, he hadn't planned for this. Alone time with Cas was filled with tense silence. Emotions he wasn't used to, nor comfortable with. The other man just watched him, blue eyes patiently waiting for the next move. "Let's go to the gas station." Castiel's eyes followed the man for a moment as he hunched his shoulders and pull his jacket closer to keep warm and walked away.

"Here, put this in your jacket," Dean pulled open the trench coat and ran his hand along the inside, looking for a hidden pocket. "Ah-ha!" he slipped the bag of gummy worms inside. His hand stopped over the other mans ribs. He could feel the man's body heat through his jacket coat. He absentmindedly bit his lip as his eyes raised to the blue ones staring intensely at him.

"Dean," Castiel paused, Dean's hand was still inside the trench coat, ghosting over his ribs, their eyes still locked, "Sneaking candy into the movies is prohibited."

Dean smiled and laughingly sighed as he patted the angel on the shoulder, "You rebelled against heaven, but you have a problem sneaking candy into the theater? Oh, that's rich, angel boy. Let's go."

As the lights dimmed and the picture started, Dean was hyper aware of the angel beside him. The lack of fidgeting, the nimble hands dipping into the popcorn bucket

Just chill out man, things are going smooth, he thought to himself. Focus on the movie so we have something to talk about at dinner besides scary monsters.

The movie was pretty good, entertaining at least. Castiel's eyes were glued to the screen, his hand bringing popcorn and gummy worms absently to his mouth. Dean snuck frequent glances at his date. There was salt clinging to his lips from the popcorn he'd noticed. He wanted to taste them, the salt and the sticky sweet of candy on the flush lips. An explosion on the screen brought him back to the present. Castiel's eyes reflected the light like stained glass on fire. Dean took the distracting moment to stretch his arm around his companion. It felt so right, his arm seemed to be molded to the man next to him. The other body unconsciously leaned back more snuggly into the arm. Dean smiled, was human nature rubbing off on the unshakable angel?

The movie ended with the plucky hero scooping his woman up into his arms and kissing her. Castiel smiled. Dean noted the exceptionally human reaction, it made him smile also.

"We are going to dinner now, correct?" Cas looked at Dean, but made no mention of the arm around his shoulders.

This wasn't the usual burger and fries joint Dean usually went to, this was a nice place. Cloth napkins folded in nice designs and everything.

"Dean, you did not have to take me to someplace so uncustomary for you. I don't even require food."

"I thought it would be nice," he felt a little foolish, but his steak was good.

"It is nice, Dean. It just didn't have to be."

"Yes it did. I wanted us to have a nice first date."

Castiel stopped twirling his spaghetti.

"This is a date?"

"I…Just..I mean…Cas…I..uh, yeah," Dean sputtered uncouthly.

"And this is our first? This is not like the other times we've spent together?"

"Well yeah, I mean no. I mean -yeah. This is our first date; it isn't like the other times we've hung out," his hands were in his lap, moving nervously. His eyes were on his half empty plate, ashamed to look up.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"I've never been on a date before."

"You have now, I guess," he fidgeted with the silverware. Castiel's hand reached out, and rested on his. Neither were sure where the reaction came from.

"Dean, look at me," they were suddenly back at Dean's motel, standing outside the door. "Thank you for a memorable first date."

"It wasn't anything special, Cas," he looked bashfully at his feet.

"It was to me."

He pressed a chaste kiss to Dean's cheek and he was gone.

Dean smiled in the cold dark, feeling the warmth still on his face.


	2. Chapter 2

"What are you so happy about?"

"Nothing, Sammy. The pie—it's just really good."

It wasn't the pie. It was the kiss still burning on his cheek.

"I found articles at the library about the case. Turns out in 1974 a teenage boy living with his parents attempted to murder them both. The father got away and ran to the police, but not before the son mutilated and killed the mother.

"How pleasant. What happened to the son?"

"He was beaten to death in prison a few years later."

"So there's no chance it's his ghost?"

"Nope. The occupants of the house said they've heard distinctly female screams and crying."

"So mommy dearest hasn't left home, and now she's slicing up any dudes living in the house as revenge?"

"Not just any guys, only the sons of the people living in the house. Not the fathers, or extended family. Only the sons."

"Should be a typical salt and burn though, right?"

"If only," Sam shook his head, Dean looked disappointedly at his empty pie dish. "She was uh—how do I put this nicely? She wasn't _whole_ when they found her. And they never found all the pieces."

Dean cringed.

"Great, we have to play hide and ghost seek. Find the missing body part."

"Yeah, well lucky for us the house is empty."

"To the graveyard to toast the puzzle, and then to the house to find the missing pieces and make a pretty picture," Dean looked out the dirty motel window. He could see his breath when he'd been out with Cas earlier, it was far later and colder now. The ground would be hard to dig in, and his fingers would be frozen at the end of the night. "Well, let's go."

They shrugged on their coats and left.

Somewhere during that freezing night, taking a break perched on a headstone, his hands shoved his pockets trying to regain feeling, his numb fingers fiddled with square of cardstock. He smiled and remembered the way the explosion looked in Cas's eyes.

"Who shoves an ear down a vent?"

"Who doesn't notice an ear shoved down a vent for thirty odd years?"

"Seriously. Dibs on the shower!" Sam bounded towards the motel room bathroom and firmly shut and locked to door.

"Dammit, Sam." Dean was covered in dirt, and dust. He smelled like earth, gun powder, and sweat. He was too tired to care. The sound of trucks on the highway outside, the steady stream of the shower raining on the cheap pvc tub, and the rhythmic thumping of a couple in another room lulled Dean asleep.

He held his arms out, like a child pretending he was an airplane. Hands floating over the tops of the golden grasses. He could hear the stream in the distance. His body followed the sound, the field stopped abruptly at the edge of the water. He pulled off his clothes and slid into the cool stream. It felt like being surrounded by silk blowing in the wind. He let the current gently pull his body. The serenity was unparalleled. He was at peace. His soul felt like it was filled with the cool, clear water.  
>something scraped against his leg. Then his back. It was sharp, and hot. It wrapped around his leg, the water boiled. It dragged him under. He felt his soul burst like a water balloon. His lungs followed suit. He opened his mouth to scream, it filled with something salty and coppery. It boiled the flesh from his lips. It scalded this throat. It filled his stomach. He couldn't take it anymore. There were claws slicing through his muscles. Hot knives in butter. His bones burned inside his flesh. He wanted to die. He begged for it. He couldn't take the heat. Something grabbed him. Something like a vice gripped his shoulder. The cool stream reached around him, and pulled him. It reached into his soul and quenched the fire in his bones. His lungs filled with air. He screamed for real this time.<p>

"Dean!" Sam was shaking his sweat soaked brother, begging him to stop sobbing, to wake up.

Dean felt like he was in the bottom of the hole he crawled out of in the desert. His brother looked frantic. Dean had stopped screaming, but he was shaking.

"Dean, what is it? What's wrong?"

"It was just a dream, Sammy." He pushed his brother off. He had fallen asleep still dressed.

"Talk to me."

He grabbed his jacket.

"Dean, please."

The door shut sharply.

It had been dusk when they'd returned. But now the sky was inky black, threatening to rain.

He was shaking still. He walked. He walked past a store. Past a school. Past houses. To a park. His body collapsed on a bench.

"Castiel," he looked towards the heavy clouds. "Cas, please."

The rain started to fall. The soft pattering covered the rustle of wings.

"Dean."

"Why did you save me from hell?" he tried not to sound bitter, but it came out as a coarse growl.

"You know why."

"Why you, out of all the angels and arc angels, so many of them stronger than you, why were you chosen?"

"I volunteered," Castiel's voice was flat and even.

"you _what?"_ For the first time they looked at each other. There was anger in the greens and sadness in the blues.

"I have been watching over you, Dean. I have been watching over you since your mother died."

"Swell fucking job you did as a guardian angel," there was venom in his voice.

"I was not a guardian. I merely took interest in your destiny. You were destined for more than hell."

"You left me there for four months. Forty years in Hell."

"You seem to not realize I went to Hell. Through Hell. For you."

"Why." It wasn't a question, it was a demand.

"I told you."

"How is my destiny so different from anyone elses?"

"Your soul…to put it simply, is a Faberge Egg in a chicken coup. It is unlike anything I have seen. You are destined for so much more."

"I'm sorry."

Water streamed down their faces, Dean couldn't tell if he was crying or not. Castiel watched the rough man wash away in the rain.

"There is nothing to be sorry for," Castiel's hand found its way to Dean's shaking one. Water brimmed eyes stared at him. "I'd do it again."

"What?"

"I would go to Hell again for you," Castiel's unblinking eyes looked into Dean's.

"Cas—"

"Stop. I am bringing you home, Dean. We will talk again when you are not so distraught."

Dean blinked and they were in the motel room. Sam was gone.

"Undress," the angel commanded.

"Whoa, that's pretty forward for an angel of the lord, Cas."

"You're wet. You must undress and get in bed," he paused, "Or I will make you."

It was a threat. Castiel's jaw was set, his mouth pressed into a hard line. Dean's numb fingers fumbled with the zipper on his jacket. He was soaked all the way through; his shirt clung to his freezing body. Shivering, he stopped at the fly of his jeans. He looked nervously at Cas.

"Dean, you have bore yourself to strangers."

"You're different," his cheeks flushed red.

"I don't understand."

"Just give me some privacy, okay dude?"

Castiel obeyed, and turned and faced the ugly wallpaper. There was the sound of pants unzipping. The heavy wet rub of denim over skin. A body sliding into a bed. Castiel turned to face the hunter again. He walked to the bed. Dean looked like a child, the covers pulled up to his chin, his eyes wide with nerves. Castiel had never seen the hunter nervous, in all the years he had watched the man, nothing had bothered him like this. A slim hand reached out and ran a finger through Dean's hair, it was gentle, affectionate. Not at all the tone Cas had used before.

"Goodnight, Dean."

The lights went out, and the hand was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

The two men walked into the dingy motel. One of them was very tall with long shining hair, the other was short with a bowlegged swagger. They were carrying heavy overnight bags.

"Can I get a room? Two beds, under James Dean," the swaggering man said, he never made eye contact with the man at the desk. Instead tapping his fingers on the counter and winking at the maid in the tight outfit walking down the hall.

"How long will you be staying?" The clerk held out a key card. It was snatched out of his hand by the rough hands of the swaggerer before he walked down the hall, examining the number.

"Sorry about him. I'd say about a week. Thanks," the long haired man said.

"Have a nice stay at Shadow Shores. Oregon's finest back country resort."

The clerk wondered what they were into. The short one was over compensating, and the tall one seemed brooding. He forgot about them after they walked away, like forgetting a dream after you wake up.

"Well it's too late to start any research tonight. I can't believe we drove all the way to New Mexico for something that turned out to be a fluke."

"Win some, lose some, Sammy. Now, how about some chow?" Dean flopped on one of the beds, "I drove. So you're going on the food run."

Sam begrudgingly set down his things, "Fine. The usual?"

"Let's get Chinese tonight! Live dangerously," he smiled mockingly at his brother. Sam sighed and left. Dean closed his eyes, the heavy disinfectant smell was making them water. He'd been in countless motels in his life, but he'd never gotten used to the smell of industrial cleaners used to hide indiscretions. It had been a long day, the silence was welcome. His breathing shallowed as started to drift off to sleep.

"Dean," the low voice seemed to blanket the room.

The green eyes shot open. He knew from the voice he was safe, but he was surprised. He hadn't seen Cas since the nightmare night, it'd had been weeks. He righted himself; his face was in a tight line. He was overjoyed to see the angel, but he was still confused about what happened last time. It had tumbled in his mind. He had been watching Dean's entire life. There was something Dean had to live up too, Cas's expectations. Why hadn't he intervened sooner? His mind span until he thought he was going to be sick.

"What is it, Cas?"

"It seemed like an opportune time to commence with our second date."

"Excuse me?" Dean looked flabbergasted, "what second date? We never tal-"

"You were thinking about it while you were driving."

"Dammit, dude. I thought we talked about that mind reading shit!" He felt uncomfortable; he wondered what else Cas had picked up on.

"I'm sorry, Dean," he looked hurt. Dean softened.

"It's okay, man. It's alright. I don't have anything planned this time though, Cas. And Sam will be kinda ticked if I disappeared after I sent him out for food."

"I have arranged everything. Come, Dean."

The trench coat clad arm reached out, offering a hand to the hunter. Dean looked at it reluctantly, his mind got that seasick feeling again, but he took the soft hand.

His heavy boots make soft sounds on the marbled floors. Years of sneaking had made the rough hunter graceful and quite. Trial by fire.

Castiel had not let go of his hand, he led Dean gently through the museum. Oh, it was definitely a museum. Dean could tell that much, and by the size of the gift shop, it was a very famous one.

"I wanted to show you what I have seen. It's not possible to show you exactly… So I came up with a more creative solution."

"I haven't been to a museum since I was a kid," Dean looked around in awe as they passed into a room filled with mannequins of humanoids. The building was dark, empty, and quiet. Quite clearly after hours.

"You were ten; John took you to the Minnesota Science Museum. You liked the dinosaurs the most."

"…Yeah," Dean wasn't sure how to respond, he just stared at Cas as he was led to a glass case of two humanoid men in fur hunched around a fake fire.

"God didn't make humans. that was easy, boring," He looked at Dean, looking for confirmation that Dean was listening. The other man nodded along and touched the glass with his free hand. "Instead he planted the seed of humanity. He watched it flourish in beasts, and finally after enough pruning and repotting something similar to these men came about. My garrison was stationed in Europe, well before it was Europe, to protect them. We were told, the animals cannot get into the garden and eat before the harvest," Castiel's eyes looked far away, his brow furrowed as he stood in the dark room remembering, the dim light from the display case splashed shadows on his face. Dean thought he looked like a noir actor with the trench coat and serious face.

"Wow," the voice broke Castiel away from wherever he had been. Dean was still taking in the room with wide eyed astonishment; the angel let him take in the exhibits, the rough hand was still wrapped with his, it led him about the room from case to case. Dean would pause to read the display cards and examine the contents of the case. He was so wrapped up in everything he wasn't even making crude jokes Castiel had noticed. After everything in the room had been thoroughly examined Dean looked at Cas, his eyes were alight with excitement. "Show me what else you've seen," there was a pause, "Please?"

"Of course," Castiel smiled. He didn't smile often, but when he did, the hunter's heart skipped a beat. It was the most beautiful site to him. He'd take it over all the women he'd ever seen, not that he'd ever admit it aloud. They walked through some other rooms, Dean stopping a few times to look at things. Eventually they came to a room filled with mannequins of men standing around a table with a piece of paper on it. They were dressed in calf length pants, and frilly shirts. The window painted on the wall showed a horse and carriage outside and women in long skirts. "I saw the declaration of independence signed. More importantly, I guarded the ships bringing what you call 'the first pilgrims' over. It was commanded of me to see enough survived to start a new settlement. Though, no one foretold what would happen once they got here."

"What haven't you seen?" Dean laughed, half mocking the angel and half astonished by him.

"There are many things I have not seen. Your world is a series of large events, large events made by very small people. There is no way I could see into the lives of all those people. And that is the true essence of humanity, isn't it?" The men faced at each other. There was pregnant pause, "That's why I began watching you, Dean. I have seen the world build block by block, but I have never examined the mortar. I wanted to peer into a human life to better understand the events of the human world. Angels are made to protect humans, we watch you, but I don't think an angel has ever truly understood a human."

Dean's head began swirling again. He didn't know what to say. An idea popped into his head, a force willing his body forward. His hand parted from the angels for the first time, it moved gently to the other man's waist. Dean's hand pulled the other body to him; his lips hesitated for just a moment. He wanted this, he'd wanted it since Cas had began coming around regularly. This wasn't a hesitation, it was a tease. It was a pause for permission, making sure the angel didn't flinch away. It was to build and break the final ounce of tension between them.

It was a gentle kiss. Not the drunken lusting kisses Dean usually gave. It was sweet. Castiel pushed back into it. Dean's lips parted just slightly, enough to take the edge of Cas's lower lip in his. His tongue flicked to brush across it gently. Castiel's hands made their way to the hunter's hips. He let Dean lead the kiss. He'd seen the pizza man kiss the babysitter and he'd seen thousands through the years, but he'd never kissed anyone. He let his vessel react, his mouth parted to give Dean an opening. Their tongues mingled. Castiel felt Dean's soul glowing. After a minute or two, Dean reluctantly pulled away, placing soft pecks on the angel's lips before completely detaching. Their foreheads were together, hands still anchored to the other. Both sets of lips were smiling.

"Is there anything else on this tour, angel boy?"

Castiel kissed Dean's forehead.

"Yes."

The two men made their way around the empty building. Dean took in the history, and Castiel remembered it. They smiled bashfully at one another when Dean caught Castiel watching him. Both of them glowed with happiness. It was the first time either of them had felt good about something in a long while. They ended back in the lobby where they had began the tour.

"We've been here for hours, Sam's gotta be worried. I should really get back," he said sadly. Castiel kissed him. It was possessive, it was strong, it was perfect, but it was short lived. The angel pulled away, and Dean noticed they were back in the hotel room.

"Goodnight, Dean."

Dean was alone again. His knees went from under him, and his body sunk to the bed. There was a sound outside.

"What the hell's with the shit eating grin?" Sam entered carrying a paper brown bag filled with food, and a plastic bag filled with beer. "What did you do to my stuff?" He set the food next to his brother and hastily began checking over his duffle bag and its contents.

"Nothing, Sammy. It's nothing."

He couldn't stop smiling if he tried.


	4. Chapter 4

Brief authors note: There is no Cas in this chapter, just mentions of him. But he'll be back next time! It's still PG-13 for now, I guess they want to take it slow haha. Also there is an original character I made up for the purpose of this story.

If there was anything Dean loved without a doubt in his mind, it was the impala. He grew up in it. Falling asleep in the back seat, warm dark smell of leather and gun oil filling the interior, the sound of classic rock softly coming from the front, the tires gliding over well traveled roads, the rhythmic sound was the only lullaby he knew. He'd learned to drive when he was fourteen. That was the first thing he fell in love with, driving. Being in control. That was Dean, always in control. Even when he "let go," and went on drinking binges, he was always in control. He knew what he was doing, what he could take. Even if he pushed himself over his limit, it was by his hand, no one else's. Driving cleared his head. He could think. He was in control of a black beast that had been rebuilt piece by piece, salvaged countless times from twisted scraps that barely resembled it's former shape. It had many lives, it's speedometer had reached it's limit long ago. The impala was the only place Dean truly felt safe. Maybe that's why he chose this moment to talk to his brother that had been weighing on his mind.

"Have you ever… You know, had feelings for uh.. For a guy?" it was the first word spoken since they'd left the motel. They'd been driving for hours, the car was somewhere in Idaho now. They hadn't found a case yet, they were just going where the wind blew. Sam wasn't sure he had heard his brother right.

"Excuse me?"

Dean grumbled something under his breath, he was obviously aggravated. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel, his brow furrowed from deep thought and confusion. There were few times Sam had seen his older brother like this, it made him nervous.

"Romantic feelings for a dude, have you ever had them?" Dean gritted his teeth.

"Dean you're like a one on the Kinsey scale, are you really asking this question?"

"What the fuck is a Kinsey scale? Don't make me pull over to hit you."

"This scientist, Alfred Kinsey made a sexuality scale in 1950's. It rates from one, being completely heterosexual, six being completely homosexual, and the other numbers somewhere in between, like three is half and half. Bisexual, no real dominating preference."

"Oh," the oldest Winchester was silent for a moment, "where do you fall on this scale?"

Sam thought for a moment, Dean would know if he was lying, it was a downside to lying professionally with your brother, he begins to know you too well.

"I'd say about a two. I've seen guy's I thought were attractive sexually. While I was at Stanford, I started to have feelings for and we uh, messed around I guess. But I prefer women."

The car was silent. The tape had ended and neither of them rewound it. They both just stared at the road.

"So let's say, hypothetically of course, if a guy was with a lot of women, but he met another guy and started to have feelings for him, like real love ballad feelings…but it was just this one guy, he still preferred the ladies. Where would he be? Hypothetically, of course," Dean rambled when he was nervous. Sam chuckled a little, his brother blushed nervously and his brow furrowed even deeper, "It's a serious question Sammy."

"Well, this 'hypothetical guy,' he'd be about a two in my opinion. Maybe a three, if he wanted a real romantic, sexual relationship with the other man. It's really not an exact science, Dean. There's nothing wrong with being gay, or bisexual. Everyone is a little gay, man," Sam reached a hand out to Dean's shoulder. He shook it off.

"Hey, no chick-flick moments, okay?"

"Do you remember, Hunter?"

"Hunter 'The Hunter'?"

"Yeah, helped dad out on a few cases when you were about thirteen. He was gay."

"_The _Hunter was gay?" For the first time Dean looked at Sam.

"Yeah, he retired to settle down with his partner a few years ago. Partner as in lover, not partner as in hunting partner. Although…"

"Oh…So, people in the hunters don't look down on?" There was still a nervous edge in his voice.

"Some of them do, but that's to be expected. But no one ever said it to his face, everyone respected him. Dean, it's okay."

"You promise?" He glanced at his brother again. This was rare, Sam comforting Dean. This was serious, but Sam just smiled.

"I promise. Now do you want to tell me who you have a crush on?"

"Aww, man! Look at us, we're gossiping like girls. That's it, we're going to do something manly. I don't want to talk about it anymore. Where are we?" He snatched the map away from his brother, expertly steering on the empty road with his knees while he examined the worn paper's marks and lines, "There's a town about thirty miles ahead of us. We are going to eat steaks, play pool, and go shooting."

Sam laughed, Dean smiled. It would be okay.

They'd hustled $700 between them the tables, Dean got the number of a pretty bartender he never intended to call, their stomachs were full, and they were a little drunk. The brothers laughed their way into the motel room, collapsing on their respective beds.

"Oh, Sammy! It has been a night," Dean laughed, he attempted to pull off his boots but quickly gave up.

"I can't believe you beat that guy! He must have been three times your size!"

"You don't gotta be big to play pool."

They laughed a while longer; eventually they shed their heavy boots and coats, and clothes smelling of beer and cigarettes. Sam flicked out the light and they crawled into their separate beds.

"G'night, Sammy."

"Night, Dean."

Silence enveloped the room. Sam relished in the feeling of the soft blankets and the sleepiness the alcohol had lain upon him. His brother's low voice split the silence like a knife opening a letter. It was delicate, and precise, but it could not be undone.

"It's Cas," he paused, he wasn't sure if Sam was asleep or not. "We've had two real dates. Real dates, Sammy. I haven't dated anyone since high school. I kissed him. And he kissed me back. He makes me feel good. Like I have a chance at something other than pain, and one night stands. He makes me happy, Sammy."

There was the unmistakable sniffle of someone trying to cry softly.

"I thought you said no chick-flick moments?"

A pillow flew across the dark room and hit Sam square in the face.

"Shut up, Sammy."

"Really, Dean. I'm happy for you," they both smiled in the dark, Sam was proud of his brother, Dean was relieved. "But hey, if you're with Cas…Can I have that bartenders number?"


	5. Chapter 5

Author's note: last time was all Dean, this time it's all Cas. They'll be back together next chapter!

It's a little known fact that angel's have paperwork to fill out; reports on prophets, events, and assaults made, things like that. Not that there's a giant celestial filing cabinet. No, it's more like streams of data flying through space and time. There's an order to it all, but nothing a human could ever discern. Angels can always see it, even in their human vessels. It's connected to their grace, engrained in their being, forever flowing through them, a shared pool of information.  
>Castiel dipped deep into his grace, to a report marked with sigils to keep the details secret from those who hadn't been involved. Everyone knew about it, but very few angels had been involved. He opened it, and was immersed in a flashback.<p>

There was the smell of stale earth, the wind roared through in his ears. Down, down, down they flew. The air grew hot, blistering; it filled with screams and moans. Castiel led the small unit of angels, their swords at the ready. Bands of demons flew at them, two dozen demons for every angel. Claws and teeth gnashing, slicing at the wings and limbs of heavens warriors. Angel blades cut throats and severed parts of demons. One of the angels was overwhelmed. Then another. And another.

The six remaining angels dove between pillars of fire and ash, slashing and chanting in enochian. Waves of demons, some as strong as the angels themselves crashed into the tiny unit. Something sliced across Castiel's back it cut through feathers and flesh, scoring the base of his valiant wings. He saw another angel over taken. The unit had stormed the gates and paid the price in blood. He could see the chains first, and he knew where they led. The red hot metal looped around the body, writhing and strung up on a dozens of hooks. It wasn't even intact but it was still screaming, or trying to scream at least. You couldn't scream with a throat that looked like that. Screams of enochian curses echoed in his ears, another lost. Castiel gathered the pieces of Dean Winchester, the righteous man who'd spilt blood in hell. If only he had defied orders and launched the assault sooner, he could have saved Dean. He could have saved the world from what he knew was coming now. He flew; he flew faster and harder than he had ever flown before. The pieces seemed to melt in his arms. He let his grace flow from his body into the pieces, there were fewer pieces now, but it was not whole yet. The three remaining angels followed their leader, trying to keep the hordes of demons at bay. A wing clipped a pillar of bodies, and another angel spiraled down like a faulty paper plane. The body in his hands had healed, that was the easy part; the soul was still shredded. He could barely see the gates of Hell before him. The demons were gaining on the tired angels, they'd been at this for weeks. They were countless, the angels were few. Another was overcome. Two left. Castiel's grace flowed into Dean Winchester's soul, it stitched and glued. There would be marks and scars, but it would be whole. The gates were before him, almost there. He passed through as the last angel fell to the mobs of teeth and claws. Castiel was the only one left. Dean Winchester flew out of Hell wrapped in Castiel's arms, and blanketed by his grace. He was left in a hole in a desert. He'd survived Hell, he could survive this.

The broken angel returned to heaven. He was bleeding and shredded, his wings singed. It was marked as a failure. A whole unit of angels lost and the gates of hell opened by the man they were trying to save. Castiel was marked a hero. None of the other angels questioned the order for his new title, but few of them actually liked it. He was an outcast among his brethren. He lived on the fringes of angel society. Slowly but surely gathering a following, amassing his own army. All because of, and all for one man: Dean Winchester.

Castiel put the report back in its place in the stream. He looked down on his sleeping ward. The man who had killed anything that wronged him, the man who'd led a life of sin and violence, the man he almost fell for, the man he _did_ fall for. His grace held the man together, they were bonded. If his soul was recycled, and unique souls like this one often were, Castiel would still be bonded to him. He would be a new person, in a new place, a new vessel, a new mission, but he would still be Castiel's. Could he be called that? Could Castiel claim ownership over a man? Were they each other's? He was part of Dean, and undoubtedly some of Dean had worked its way into the angel. He made the decision right there, when it was time for the man's soul to be taken, when it was labeled for recycling, Castiel would change something. Put it in the same vessel, or same life. Maybe he could swing it so he too became an angel, but what fun would that be? He looked down again; he could feel what Dean was feeling. The man had confided in his brother. He'd relinquished his control; it was the first time since Hell. This was a big step for the hunter. He'd opened his biggest secret up to his brother. He'd made the decision to love Castiel. The angel felt conflicted. Did Dean only love him because he was stitched together with his grace? Did the angel even care? He had loved the human from the moment he began watching. He watched him grow into a man, watched him become the man he was today. Castiel knew every flaw, every tick, every mark on the hunter. Castiel didn't care why Dean loved him, he just cared that he did. Maybe that was wrong, but the angel decided not to care anymore. He laid a kiss on the forehead of the sleeping man, his hand fit into the scar on his shoulder. He would have the hunter, and the hunter would have him. As far as Castiel was concerned, the matter was final.


	6. Chapter 6

Her eyes were aflame with malice and hatred. She stood in the dark before an ornate alter, muttering a string of curses. There was blood dripping out of a wound on her stomach, it pooled around her feet and made it appear as if she was standing on a macabre pedestal.

"Dean Winchester, you have killed the brothers and sisters of my coven. My family, my students, my lover. You have slain those who I love, now you shall slay those who you love."

A figure appeared in the doorway, blocking the dim light streaming in.

"Sorry sister, show's over. Time to give up the last stand, and—"

"I will never surrender to you," she spat. Her back was still to him. He saw the glint of a knife in her hand, his solider instinct kicked in and he braced to fight. He heard the wet gurgle of air and blood trying to escape through the same hole. Her body crumpled on the floor in the growing stain.

"Damn."

"I don't feel any urges to kill you, Sammy," Dean examined himself, "well more than usual that is."

"Comforting," he flipped through pages of a book, he stopped and held it up for his brother to see. "Did the herbs on the alter look like this?"

"Yeah, there was a bundle of them wrapped around my picture."

"Was there any other kind of herbs?" He leafed through more pages.

"Nope, that was it. What's the verdict, poindexter?"

"She must have been out of herbs to turn you on your family, those herbs are specific to romantic love. To turn you against someone you're in love with."

Dean gulped, he tried to sound calm, "well I don't feel like killing anyone," he couldn't say the name. "I'll be fine, it probably didn't work. I'm going to go get something to drink, you want anything?"

"nah, I'm fine. I think I'll start looking for more cases," Sam opened his laptop and began clicking away, Dean left without another word.

They were in Indiana. It was an unseasonably warm winter, but it was still winter. Dean zipped his jacket and pulled the collar up against the cold breeze. He walked with an urgent pace; he realized he forgot his wallet, so much for the liquor store.

_I could never kill Cas. Shit, why did he pop into my head when that dumb witch cursed me?_

He knew why, of course. He was still having trouble accepting this part of himself. Could the ultimate ladies man be in love with a man? He told his brother; Sam had accepted it readily enough. Sam had even let it slip to Bobby, and he really couldn't care less. Why was it so tough for Dean himself to accept?

_That fucking angel. He must have used some of his freaky mojo on me. He's been watching since I was a kid, the sick bastard. Never bothered to help until it was useful to him. He used me to gain notoriety in Heaven. _

Dean gritted his teeth. He'd walked to an abandoned part of town. He sat on the rusted hood of a long forgotten car and fumed.

_That sick angel just wants me. Why else would he save me from Hell? I've been his wank material my whole life. Not anymore._

"CASTIEL!" He screamed at the top of his lungs, it echoed off broken walls and made stray dogs bark.

"Dean, no need to shout." The angel appeared beside him on the car hood.

"Can I see your sword? Sam and I are testing a theory," Dean was calm and collected; Castiel saw nothing to fear in the man's face. There was a strange smell surrounding him, but he ignored it. The silvered handle of the angelic blade was pressed into the waiting hand.

"What is this the—" His head hit the pavement. Sure the fall from the car hood was nothing compared to things he'd faced before, but he felt the scalp of his vessel split as his skull bounced on the dirty concrete. The angel blade felt like an icicle pressed to his throat. The weight of the hunter straddling him felt oddly comfortable despite the shaking blade in his hand.

"You used me. I'm not your fuck doll, you angel freak!" He was growling through his teeth.

"Dean, calm down," Castiel was unshakably cool despite the circumstances. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You do! You know exactly what! I am not your puppet, Cas. You can't use me as leverage against Heaven anymore," He took a deep breath, there were tears streaming down his face. Castiel knew what was coming, he felt the hunter shift his weight, preparing to make a move. Cas shoved. The blade drew a sliver of grace from his neck as the bodies rolled. Light leaked from the wound like light under a door. Dean tried to slash and slice, but the angel was too strong. His arms were pinned under Castiel's knees, there was a hand around his throat, and the angel blade had clattered away out of his reach.

"Dean Winchester, what do you think you are doing?" The low voice of the angel was the one growling now, his nails pressed into the skin of the other mans neck and his eyes bore into the green ones shooting flames below him. "I did not use you, I didn't use you as a puppet, you are not my so-called 'fuck doll,' Dean. But _you are mine._"

"Fuck you!" Dean spat at the angel. Castiel tightened his grip, there would be a bruise. The throat strained to breath under his fingers.

"You are mine, and I am yours." For the first time, Castiel noticed the other man reeked of dark magic. He said a cleansing prayer in enochian and hoped this would work. He leaned down to the other man, who was silently raging still; Castiel silently finished his prayer and pressed his lips to the tight ones below him. Dean tried to shake the angel's mouth free, but hands came up and held his head steady. Castiel deepened the kiss; he felt the body below him stop resisting. The lips locked with his tried to mumble something out. He removed his mouth cautiously.

"Uh, Cas, you're crushing me here," Dean said weakly.

"Do you still feel the need to slit my throat?"

He saw the light leaking from the angel's neck. It was healing quickly, but Dean knew what he'd done. He went pale, a look of twisted pain stained his face.

"Oh my god..I couldn't help it, Cas," he whispered, the angel rolled off of him and sat beside him on the ground, staring into the distance. Dean pulled himself up and looked at his hands shamefully.

"You smelled like magic."

"We…we went to talk to this coven of witches today, they'd been cursing people in families of wealth after marrying into them. They…They attacked, we had no choice but to fight back. We killed them. But the leader escaped. She ran. When I found her, she said I would kill the person I loved for killing her loved ones," he looked at Castiel with tears in his eyes "I'm sorry, I am so sorry. I didn't…I couldn't…" his fingers drifted to the cut on the angel's neck, it was little more than a pink scar now.

"It's alright, Dean."

"Those things I said, Cas that was horrible. It wasn't me. I didn't mean it."

"I know."

Castiel's calm made Dean nervous.

"Are we okay?" He wasn't sure if he wanted the answer. Angel looked at him for the first time.

"I know you love me because you tried to kill me. I realize that is not customary for people in love, but we are not customary people in love," his voice was even, there wasn't a hint of sarcasm or anger in it. Something snapped in Dean, and his eyes started leaking again, but he was smiling.

"Jesus, man. Ain't that the truth."

"I'm sorry if I hurt you."

"Nah, I deserved it."

Castiel let out a small chuckle, "yeah, a little bit."

"I'm sorry for trying to sishkabab you with your own sword."

"Better luck next time," he smiled mockingly at the other man who was a mess of tears and dirt.

They sat in silence on the ground a while longer, they were both filthy from the tussle.

"Will you walk me home?" Dean asked quietly. Castiel stood up and brushed off his hands on his pants, and held out his hand to help the other man up. They walked back, hand in hand. They passed the liquor store and Dean remembered why he went out in the first place. Castiel picked up on it, and suddenly there was a bag with beer and whiskey in Dean's free hand.

"Did you just steal that?"

The angel just smiled and continued walking, "Shh."


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Note: this chapter is where the MATURE CONTENT comes in. Not that it'll be in every chapter, but it's starting in this one. yep. Enjoy!

Castiel's head tilted in that puppy dog way that made Dean's knees wobble and he forgot what they'd been talking about.

"Dean, are you alright?"

"What? Oh yeah, fine. What were we talking about?"

"You said you would like to take me to this place called 'the drive in,' and I asked where we drive into."

"You've never heard of a drive-in? Oh, boy."

"But where do we drive into?"

"Nowhere, you geek. You drive your car to this giant lot, and you sit in it and watch a movie…Kind of."

"Kind of?" the angel's head tilted again, a quizzical look in his eye. A smirk spread across Dean's lips.

"Come on," he patted the angel on the back and ushered him out the door.

Dean left no space between them in the back seat of impala, his arm was around the angel's shoulders and he had snuggled into the crook of his arm.

"This is like our first date," Castiel said suddenly looking at his companion.

"Well, yeah. Kind of…Sorry. I thought you'd like it."

"I do," he kissed the prickly cheek of the other man. As he pulled away, Dean's lips chased his unsuccessfully.

"Oh no you don't," he mumbled, he swung his leg over and awkwardly straddled the other man.

"Dean, I can't see the movie if you're on my lap."

"Remember when I said you 'kind of' watch movies at the drive in? Well this is what you really do."

"I see," his hands floated up to the tight denim clad hips on his lap, "I think I enjoy this better than the film."

Dean's lips attacked his hungrily, his teeth nipping at the angel's lower lip. Castiel smirked into the kiss and tightened his grip on the hunter's hips. Dean shivered at the thought of the angel being not as innocent as he seemed. Smooth fingers worked their way to the edge of his tight t-shirt and slipped underneath and paused, waiting for permission.

"Yes," his voice was low and hoarse, the angel's hands slid the fabric slowly over tanned skin, feeling scars and lines in the dark like he was reading Braille. They worked together to get it over his shoulders and head awkwardly in the cramped position. The second the shirt was flung aside, Cas's lips trailed across his shoulders and neck, gentle kisses paired with nips at the hot skin, stubbled jaw scrapping against flesh. Dean was losing his cool, for the first time he remembered he was with a guy. He was nervous to continue, but damn, did it feel _good._ He'd stopped moving, Castiel pulled back to look him in the eyes.

"Dean, are you alright? Am I not doing something correctly?" His eye's searched the other face; he respected Dean's wishes to not simply read his thoughts.

"Is it…Is it alright to be with another guy?"

"Do you mean does God forbid it?"

"Yeah," his voice was low, ashamed.

"Angels used to lie with men and women in the beginning. From the different sexed couples came half creatures, too powerful for your world, not enough for ours. God forbid all Angel coupling with humans. That part of the bible that says 'a man shall not lie with a man as he does a woman' was misquoted and skewed. God gave humans freewill to love whomever they please, Dean. Besides, God is no longer present."

"Oh…So, it's not wrong?"

"No."

"Would you still be with me if it was wrong?"

"Yes."

Dean thought for a moment, before kissing the angel, "Good." His hands pulled the shoulders of the trench coat down; they wiggled to free it from behind the other's body, their hips rocking into each other made Dean's breath grow faster. His fumbling hands loosened the tie and flung it to the side; he began unbuttoning the starched white shirt. In the dark the buttons seemed impossibly small. He paused to kiss the angel deeply. He couldn't help but grind his pelvis against the angel; he could feel his arousal growing.

"Dean," his voice somewhere between a whisper and a moan. The hunter's calloused hands made quick work of the rest of the buttons, flinging the shirt underneath the suit coat open. He leaned back to take in the sight. There wasn't the curves Dean was used to, nor was he cut like the hunter. He was fit, the natural olive hue to his skin didn't pale under the shirt, and there was a small trail of hair leading from his bellybutton to below his trousers. He ran a hand over the stomach and up the chest slowly. He could feel the angel's heart pounding, a thought occurred to him.

"Is Jimmy in there?"

"No, he's not. He asked me to send his soul on long ago and willed me his vessel." Dean nodded. Castiel looked at the man perched on his lap, the hand still over his heart. "We don—"

"Shut up," Dean kissed him roughly. His hands snaked down to the other man's belt, it flopped to the side as the hands worked the button and zipper. The fabric of the boxers was strained, Dean teasingly slipped his fingers just under the waistband. "I want to make you feel good," he whispered in the angel's ear before gently nipping at the lobe. Cas was breathing heavily, his fingers digging into Dean's hips.

"Please," he gasped as Dean's hands pulled the fabric out of the way. Dean wrapped his arm around the Angel's head and quietly spit into his palm. If he was going to give his angel lover a handjob in the back seat of his precious car at the drive in, he was going to be classy about it he decided. The slick hand wrapped around hot flesh, and slowly began stroking. Cas kissed the hunter hard, his lips fumbled down his jaw and neck. Dean had one hand on the back of his date's neck; the other was picking up speed around his cock. Dean was plenty hard himself, but this wasn't about his physical needs. He needed Castiel, he needed to feel him come undone, his body writhing under his touch. The windows had fogged up with their ragged breath. His thumb swirled over the head of Cas's cock, it was leaking with precum.

"Oh god, Cas," he involuntarily moaned out. His hand worked with a steady pace. He placed kisses on the crook of the angel's neck; he nipped experimentally at the skin.

"D-dean, I-I'm s-so," he stuttered out, his whole body seemed to tighten like a rubberband wound too tight, he bit hard into Dean's shoulder to muffle his moan as he released in his tight hand. He was panting, but he pulled the other man to him for a deep kiss. Dean reached behind himself and pulled a hankerchief from his pocket to whip his hand before unmounting. Castiel buttoned himself back up, and rested his damp head on Dean's shoulder, "I like the drive-in."

"Me too," he kissed the top of the angel's head. "Was that… was that your first time?"

"No."

"Wait seriously?" Dean's voice went up in shock and he looked at the angel who'd been disturbed from his place on the shoulder.

"I laid with a human once before it was outlawed."

"I—Who—Was it a man or a woman?"

"It was a man. Dean, it was thousands of years ago. During the height of the Roman empire."

"Jesus…"

"No, it was not Jesus."

Dean just gave him a look.

"Are you angry?"

"No, I'm just…Shocked."

"Angel's are not as innocent as one would believe."

"But..You said before you'd never been with a woman."

"I haven't."

"Oh. Well..Okay. You're not just pulling my leg?"

"No."

"Wow."

"Should I have disclosed this before?"

"Nah, I'm just really surprised."

"You've made that quite clear."

"Sorry, sorry. I just—wow."

"Dean?"

"Yeah, Cas?"

"It meant more with you. The man I lied with, he was just someone who looked good. We are bonded."

"I don't look good?" Dean mocked.

"You know what I mean."

Dean kissed him, "I do. And I'm glad we're bonded. I…" he stopped and kissed him again instead of finishing the sentence.

"I am too," he laid his head back on Dean's shoulder.


	8. Chapter 8

The tequila shot burned down his throat, he grunted and downed another. Dean was on his way to becoming thoroughly drunk, and that's what he wanted. He hadn't seen Castiel since their last date, hadn't even heard from him, it'd been two weeks. Sometimes the walls Dean built up around himself came crumbling. Here in this Missouri bar he drowned his feelings about his dead father, his demon blood addicted brother, his mother. He couldn't save any of them. Couldn't even save himself, surely he was going back to Hell. He couldn't stop anyone from leaving. Not even the angel bonded to him. He slapped some money on the battered bar and stumbled out of the door. Luckily he only had to make it across the street to get to the motel, any further and he surely would have fallen.

"Sam!" he pounded on the door, "Sammy, open up!" he tried to find the keycard in his jacket and after a few moments of patting and digging he carefully lined up the card with the slot. It was a lot easier when he wasn't a shot away from blackout drunk. He tripped over the threshold and landed face first on the threadbare carpet. He laid there for a moment, trying to register what had happened. Eventually he pulled himself onto the bed, stripping his boots, jacket, and shirt once he got there. He flopped backwards and heard a crinkle and felt something scratching at his back. He grumbled and pulled the note from Sam out from under him. Dean wasn't even sure himself why he tried to read it in this state, all he could make out was "Lead, Ruby, Later, Sam."

"Demon bitch."

Dean stumbled into the bathroom. His lazy liquored legs dragged on the ground, catching on a discarded pair of jeans. He went down; his head hit the white porcelain of the sink. Blood's gonna stain the grout, he thought before blackness overtook him.

He instinctively leaned over the edge of the bed as his stomach wretched. Someone had placed the trash can there, how convenient, he thought before his body continued tossing up the minute contents of his stomach. By the time he was able to sit back up he realized someone had put him in bed and bandaged his head. He felt foggy and nauseated. There was someone handing him a cup of water.

"Drink," the voice managed to sound smooth and gravelly at the same time, he couldn't wrap his broken head around it but he didn't question it. "You have a concussion" the tan trench coat sat on the edge of the bed.

"Cas?" his voice was scratchy and confused.

"Yes."

"Can you…?" his hands made wonky motions towards himself, but the angel understood. A gentle hand touched Dean's forehead and he suddenly felt a lot better.

"Thanks," he paused, "Why didn't you just start out with that?"

"With your aversion to reading your thoughts, I wasn't sure if you'd be mad if I healed you."

"Oh. Uh, it's okay. Thanks," Castiel's nimble fingers unwrapped the now useless gauze and bandages around Dean's head. Dean couldn't look at him; he was ashamed to be caught in a moment of weakness. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Are you referring to my absence?" He said, needlessly checking over the hunter who nodded. "Dean, I'm very busy, I still have orders. I apologize. I still kept an eye on you. Clearly not closely enough though." His hand caressed the hunter's cheek, gently turning the face up towards his, "I'm sorry."

"I'm selfish."

Castiel's brow furrowed.

"I forget that you're flying around doing good deeds and protecting and shit when you're not here. I got mad. At you, at myself. I thought I scared you away, after…After last time."

"but I liked that," his head tilted in confusion.

"Yeah. I just. I don't know, man." He threw his hands up in a futile attempted to explain something he couldn't even begin to articulate. He slid out of the bed past the angel, he noticed for the first time he was only in a pair of boxer briefs. He was too flustered to care. He paced back and forth in the small room, the clock read 2 o'clock in the afternoon. Sam wasn't back yet. He checked his cell for messages, he remembered the note "Went to look for some leads in the next town over with Ruby, I should be back later Sunday, Sam." It was Saturday. He felt a little calmer. The angel just watched the man move nervously around the room.

"Dean, is there something I can do?"

The hunter stopped in his tracks and looked as if he's just remembered the angel was there. "Are we…you know?"

"I don't know."

Dean flailed uselessly again and groaned. He plopped on the second bed parallel to Cas, he looked defeated for a moment, before he clearly had decided something in his head and looked to the angel.

"Are we dating? I mean like a couple. I mean like, boyfriends?" his green eyes searched the face.

"I suppose our…relationship , is at a customary point of decision," Castiel paused and looked into the other man's eyes, "Did you not want to be a couple?"

Dean's face dropped, and he reached out to take Cas's hands in his, "I want you. I want only you. I don't want to take home anymore bar girls. I care about you, Cas. If you want to see other people…" his voice drifted off and his eyes dropped.

"I only see you," his voice was soft, he squeezed the hands holding his as if to press the thought into Dean's skin.

"So we're together? We're a couple?"

"Yes."

"Can we set up some rules? Like at least let me know you're alright if you're going to be gone for weeks?"

"That is reasonable. Could you refrain from getting drunk and falling in the bathroom?"

"I'll try," he smiled and the angel smiled back. They just took in the sight of each other. After a while, Dean got up and pulled Cas up with him, "take off your coat and shoes and all that crap. You can leave your pants on. I want to do something I never really get to do." Castiel obliged. Dean slipped into the bed again, and patted the empty space next to him, "Get in." The bed was warm, Castiel instinctively wrapped his arms around Dean's shoulders. He was surprised how natural human affection came to him, but he didn't mind. The hunter draped an arm over his chest and nuzzled the crook of his neck.

"This is cuddling, correct?"

"Yeah," Dean replied rather dreamily. The angel smelled like freshly washed clothes, olive oil, and earth after rain. It was an odd combination, but it was so comforting. Castiel kissed the top of Dean's head.

"I like this."

"Cas?"

"Yes, Dean?"

"Don't go anywhere for a while, just stay here please. Just for the day."

"Of course, my love."

Dean smiled into the angel's skin, he was happy again.


	9. Chapter 9

Authors Note: This another interlude type deal, kind of like chapters 4 and 5. Dean and Cas' feelings about everything a couple weeks in. more actual story story next time!

A real relationship, this was new. The first person since Cassie he shared his life with. The candle burned hot with Cassie, but it didn't last long. Castiel was different. The little angel that could. He'd been the constant Dean needed in his life. His brother was hit or miss. Sam was there, but with the blood and Ruby and his sensitive artist crap, Dean didn't want to rely too much on someone who could let him down like that. Bobby was a constant, but then again so was John. He could love his fathers, but he didn't want to rely on them. There were few people he could trust, that he would willingly trust with his life. He didn't care much about his body, he liked to share that. But what was left of his soul he guarded with a ferocity that rivaled anything he'd ever battled. The anti-possession tattoo, the closed off nature, checking everyone he met with a secret flick of holy water, handshakes with sliver and iron rings. He'd check, double check, triple check. The only part of himself he had left of himself was his soul. It'd been sliced and diced and forfeit to Hell, but against all odds he still had it. And he only had one person to thank for that.

It'd been a couple weeks since they'd made it official. It still felt foreign to Dean, but it felt good too. Their relationship was nothing like their actual lives. They could take it slow, they could be gentle. The only thing they had to fight tooth and nail for was each other. No saving the world, or ganking ghosts. No ghouls or witches. Just Cas and Dean. He watched the angel change the more time they spent together. He picked up human habits, smiling, holding hands. He even obliged Dean's request to sleep and eat when they were together, it was less awkward and Castiel liked the rest and the new sensations of taste. When he knew Cas was going to have some free time he'd get a separate room from Sam. The privacy was a welcome change, not that they even really needed it. Sure Dean thought about sex, but for once that wasn't on the top of his list. Although every night they crawled into bed together, Dean would run his fingers gently over the angel and contemplate bumping it up a space or two. Even in the short amount of time he knew every mark, curve, and freckle of Castiel's body. He liked the way his full lips looked after they'd been kissing. The dimple in his chin. Sometimes he'd lay in the dark beside the angel and draw wings with his finger tips across his shoulders as they'd talk, sharing stories and secret wishes. Both spent time pleasing the other, hands and mouths hungry, dying to express affection in a more intense way. But Dean still wasn't comfortable "going all the way." He felt like a high school girl when he said it, but he knew it wouldn't be just sex. It would be making love. He didn't want to ruin what they had now. He loved Castiel, they both knew it, but he wasn't ready to admit it just yet.

Though the angel had been watching Dean for a long time, it was nice to finally be close to him. To learn his secrets from his own mouth instead of just looking at them and help him relax and let go after a tough day. He liked to kiss the freckles on Dean's tanned shoulders and trace his fingers along the lines of his muscles. With Dean he didn't have to obey orders unless he wanted to, or question his very existence. He could just be. Sometimes he'd lie awake and watch Dean sleep, even though he said he wouldn't because it creeped Dean out. If his hunter started to twitch and call out with nightmares, he'd be there soothe him, taking him in his arms and rocking gently until his mind settled. Castiel liked when Dean would take him to places he thought the angel might like. Cas would like anything Dean brought him too. He watched Dean relax in the weeks they'd spent together. Slowly he shared himself, piece by piece. Castiel had seen every part of Dean, body and soul. But he knew what it meant for the hunter to willingly give himself over to Cas, even if it was slowly. He'd memorized the taste of Dean's kisses, his skin, his sweat, his cum. Filing them away as perfect simple pleasures. His favorite times with Dean were spent watching his lover daydream in a post orgasmic haze. Dean was hopeful, even after everything he'd seen, he'd been through, deep down he held hope that there was good. He didn't talk about it often, he never shared it before. Not even with Sam, he was too afraid of losing it, but he'd shared it with Castiel. He liked to listen to stories of him and Sam. The way Dean's green eyes would light up with pride made Cas hope he felt the same sense of pride about him. Sometimes they would just play cards and drink beer all night with Sam and Bobby. Cas liked those nights. He had many brothers and sisters, but no real family. At least not until recently. He'd found a home in the arms of another warrior. Maybe that's why he loved Dean. Two battle hardened souls had found company with each other; they'd woven themselves into each other. Castiel and Dean were bonded by the very fiber of their being, both men knew it, and neither questioned it, not anymore. As an angel, Castiel had always been uncertain of what he thought about the true nature of fate. Somewhere between rough kisses and gentle voices in the dark he'd found what he'd been made for. It had been his fate to save Dean Winchester. It was his fate to love him. If that caused him to fall, so be it.


	10. Chapter 10

"I don't think you've ever directly asked for my help," Sam looked surprised.

"It's about Dean."

"Is he alright? Is he in trouble?" Sam was scared, he couldn't lose Dean again. Castiel felt bad for Sam interpreting things negatively.

"He's fine," that wasn't completely true, Sam's addiction and relationship with Ruby had been bothering him, but it wasn't for Castiel to comment on. "I wanted to consult you on a birthday gift for him."

"Oh yeah, his birthday is Tuesday, isn't it?"

Castiel nodded.

"What were you thinking about getting him?" Sam fidgeted nervously when he was alone with the angel. Castiel knew it was the demon blood making him anxious around holy powers. Castiel pulled out a leather bound journal from his jacket. He handed it to Sam to examine. It was brown like the Winchester's father's had been. It wasn't battered and torn and coming apart at the seams though. There was a snap that closed it, and space to add pages in the back. It was sturdy and smooth. "Wow, Cas. This is really nice."

"He talks so much about John's journal. I thought Dean might want to keep one for future hunters. He's seen so much more than John could have ever imagined."

" I wonder what dad would say about this mess," he paused in thought for a moment before handing the blank book back to Cas, "He'll like it. He'll love it, Cas."

"Thank you for your input."

"Cas?"

"Yes, Sam?"

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being there for Dean. I haven't been the best brother at times. He..He's changed with you around. For the better I mean. He seems almost happy. I haven't seen Dean genuinely relaxed in years."

"Oh," the angel wasn't sure how to respond. There was an awkward moment, Sam rocked with his hands shoved in his pockets and Castiel furrowed his brow trying to think of an appropriate response, "We are bonded. It goes both ways."

"So you're happy too?"

"Very much so."

"That's good, Cas," Sam looked genuinely pleased smiling at the angel. "I gotta get more work done before Dean gets back though or I'm in for it."

"Goodbye, Sam."

The angel disappeared as suddenly as he'd arrived, and Sam continued to click away at his laptop.

Dean stared at the object in his hands. It looked like his dad's. It felt like his dad's. He turned it over and over; feeling the buttery leather, examining every stitch and seam so he wouldn't have to respond, flipping through the blank pages. Inside the cover there was a note scrawled in quick but neat handwriting "To Dean, 'The enemy that sowed them is the devil; the harvest is the end of the world; and the reapers are the angels.'" It was signed "Castiel."

"Why that verse?" it was the first thing he'd said since the gift had been presented.

"You're a killer. But the world would be at a loss without you."

"That's pretty fucking grim, Cas. In a poetical sort of way."

"Do you not like your present?"

"It's nice," he said half heartedly.

"You don't," the angel sounded hurt, but looked confused. The hunter still hadn't looked at him, he was just staring at the journal, turning it over.

"I do, really."

"I thought it would remind you of your father."

"It does."

"And that's what is wrong?"

"Growing up, you swear you'll never make the same mistakes your parents did, that you'll never be like them. I admired my dad. He was my dad! He did his best to raise Sammy and me, he taught us everything there was to know about hunting, but he left when we really needed him most. I hate him for that," he looked up at Cas for the first time; there were tears in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I didn't mean to…" he wasn't quite sure what to say again. Castiel didn't like that feeling.

"No, I'm sorry. I'm a jerk," he stood up, and embraced the angel, "It's great. Thank you. Sammy and I have seen more than most hunters, we should probably write some of it down. It was very thoughtful, even though I told you not to get me anything." He pretended to sock Cas on the shoulder and gave a weak smile. He started to strip for the shower; it had been a long day and he wanted to melt under the hot tap.

"I've met him," Cas said softly, it almost went unheard, "Your souls are nothing alike." He didn't finish his thought; Dean was so much stronger than John had ever been, driven half mad by grief and revenge. Dean was a good man; John had just been a man. He would never say it to his hunter though.

"Good," he disappeared into the bathroom.

Castiel heard the water turn on and the shower door slide twice in the track. He got up and stripped his clothes also, opening the door and stepping into the bathroom already beginning to steam. He slipped past the glass in behind Dean.

"Cas, what are you doing?"

He slipped his arms around Dean and nuzzled his neck, "I'm taking a shower with you."

Apparently that answer suited the other man, who turned to kiss him. The gentle kiss quickly grew heated. Teeth catching on lips, tongues battling for dominance, hands groping ungracefully. Castiel pushed Dean against the cold tile of the shower wall, he gasped and tried to pull away, but Castiel had him pinned, one hand on his hip the other form fit to the scar on his shoulder. The extreme sensations of the hot water and the cold tile made Dean shiver inadvertently. As did the sight of the angel kneeling before him. Castiel's nails racked the sensitive skin of Dean's stomach on his way down, Dean's hand slide into his wet hair. The angel's soft lips teased his thighs, before taking Dean into them. He let out an obscene moan when he felt the hot tongue swirling around the head of his dick. He wanted more. His hand knotted into Cas's hair, pulling him forward. He took it willingly. Dean wasn't sure how the angel had gotten so good at giving head so quickly, but he loved it. He bucked into Cas's mouth, who coughed and sputtered, but looked up adoringly at the man. Cas loved this, he loved the taste of Dean. He worked the hunter until he couldn't handle it anymore. He swallowed all Dean gave him. He placed kisses on his hips and stomach as he went up.

"Happy birthday, Dean."


	11. Chapter 11

Dean's first thought was about her hair: it was short, but damn did it look good. Long hair could get caught or grabbed by something. She was a smart hunter. It was the color of crow feathers and was straight and even as a razor.

"You must be ze infamous Winchester duo," her voice sounded foreign but he couldn't place it. Maybe Swedish or Norwegian? it was low, sexy, and sharp as knives. She was lean, pale, and tall. The denim of her jeans was thick, but seemed to embrace her body like a second skin. She had a motorcycle that was equally heavy duty and incredibly attractive. Dean instinctually wondered how hard it would be to get the pants off.

"You must be Marya," He gave her another once over, he face screamed 'ice queen' to Dean, he winked anyways. She regarded him with a look of distaste and disdain.

"I'm going to be upfront. I'm not into working wis others," She looked the brothers over again, she was clearly unpleased, "But Ellen wouldn't let me leave The Roadhouse without agreeing to partners for this job."

"She said something about a large nest of vamps," Sam offered.

"About thurty holed up in an old theater. They're all very old. Strong."

"You look like a tough girl, I'm sure you could have handled it yourself," Dean couldn't stop staring at the ring clad hand balancing a motorcycle helmet on her hip.

"I could have. Ellen is my godmother. And she threatened to trash my bike."

The brothers scoffed and she shot them a look that stung like a salt round.

She produced a manila envelope from inside her jacket and threw it on the table. Dean couldn't figure out how she'd concealed it in something so tight. He reached out quickly, he could feel her heat on its surface still.

"Here are maps of the building and profiles of ze so called 'top-dog' and his second and third in command."

"You've done your research," Sam sounded surprised.

"You didn't," she noted dryly. "We're booked in ze same motel. If you have any questions, find me. Ozerwise, see you at dawn."

"Wait, what's the plan?"

"We torch ze theater," she left without another word.

Dean admired her straightforward approach. And the way her hips swung as she walked. The edge of her jacket didn't meet the top of her pants. He saw the telltale pearled skin of a scar in the shape of a vicious looking bite mark. Damn. His mouth watered and his cock twitched. Oh, this woman was life changing.

Sam had made a copy of the information they got from Marya for Dean. He sat in his room studying it; memorizing the marks the woman had made showing the plan. He was waiting for Cas. It was the second night he said he'd be there, but hadn't shown. He tried to not be bothered by it, but it wasn't easy now that he was used to it. The clock read 2:37. Sun rise was at 5:13. He had a while, but he was antsy. He dressed, and slipped quietly out into the hall. He'd sneaked a look at the guest registry earlier when they checked in. He betted she was in the room bearing the name "Selene Beckinsale," #115.

He knocked quietly.

She opened the door a crack to see who it was. A sliver of cigarette smoke slid out of the door. She unlatched the lock and let him in. He noticed still in the impossibly tight jeans and a white tank top. She wasn't wearing a bra; he could see the shadow of her nipples under it. He tried not to stare, but his mouth watered again at the thought of tasting her skin.

"Vat do you want," it was a command, not a question. He noticed wires, and short lengths of pipe and other odds and ends on the table behind her.

"Are you making fucking pipe bombs?"

"Do you have any better ideas on how to blow open ze side of a concrete building and set fire to the interior wisout collapsing ze structure?"

He didn't, "Should you be smoking while doing that?"

"You clearly know nozing about C4," she turned back to the table and sat down, continuing her task. "Ellen said you were supposed to be good at zis," she mumbled.

"Hey now, we're plenty good at our job! I've been hunting since I was 15," he sat down opposite of her. He watched her slim fingers place wires and fiddle with timers. She put on an end cap and set it with an already finished bomb on one side of the table. Dean watched her make another one before either of them spoke.

"Iz zer a reason you're still here?"

"Oh. Sorry. I'm just…Came to ask if you had any booze," he lied.

"No."

"Weird. Okay," he stood up to leave. As he passed her, her hand reached out and landed flat on his hip. He stopped dead in his tracks. She didn't look up from the table, her hand was barely touching him, he didn't even let out a breath.

"No drinking, we have work to do," she pulled her hand back and continued on her task.

"Right."

He went back to his room to get a nap before the raid. He dreamed of the hand sliding over his hip to his fly, unzipping and snaking in. There was a deadly smirk on the sharp face, her lips looked wet and full. He was shaken from his dream by Sam pounding on the door, time to go already.

"Did you see her with that fucking katana? Who even has one of those in real life!"

"Seriously. What a woman," Dean was flabbergasted by her. He had just watched her slay ten vamps single handedly after blowing ten straight to hell with her handy work. He was sure that she could have easily done the job herself.

Sam was cleaning a wound on his arm, it wasn't bad but there was no reason to risk infection.

"Did you see how she just kept going after that dude sliced her? She's fucking super woman."

"Yeah. I'm going to go see if she needs someone to stitch that up," Dean left his brother, his head was foggy. Left over adrenaline and amazement. This woman was seriously deadly. Probably the only human that could kill him without a fight, he thought. That shouldn't have turned him on like it did; he tried to ignore the thought of her slim body shaking with adrenaline after the raid.

He knocked, the door opened sharply. She looked angry.

"Vat do you vant? We're done here." She was standing in a t shirt and sensible panties. There was a deep slice on her thigh bleeding heavily where a vamp had got her earlier, and a bottle of vodka in her hand.

"Uh, do you need help with that?" He'd had stitches on his thigh before. It was not pleasant.

"No," but she motioned him to come in. She took a swig and sat down on the bed, a towel already stained with fresh blood beneath her. She held out a suture already threaded to him.  
>He carefully knelt between her legs, looking up at her after a moment's hesitation. She tipped the bottle and let vodka splash on the open wound and trickle down her leg. She hissed and winced. Her eyes remained close and her jaw set. She nodded for Dean to begin. He couldn't stop watching the lines of stained alcohol dripping down her thigh and soaking into the towel.<p>

Focus. She could kill me if I fuck up.

The curved needle sunk and rose. Repeat. The slick black stitching her flesh closed. She didn't even twitch. But by the end of the long cut, her breath was coming in pants, and she would tremble ever time the needle exited her flesh. He gently placed a hand on the top of her thigh.

"It's okay. I'm done," his voice was soft. He didn't move, his eyes couldn't tear away from the fact he was inches away from her. He could smell her musk. His jeans felt tight. "Sorry I don't have a lollypop," he licked his lips, thinking clearly of something else. He looked up at her face, her eyes we closed still, but she looked more relaxed.

Fuck it, he thought.

He kissed her thigh at the end of the cut. He nuzzled the other thigh, rough cheek and chin juxtaposing with gentle lips. A thin hand reached down and carded through his hair. He placed a small nip on the unmarred thigh. His hands parted her legs, and reached to her hips to pull down the underwear. He was careful to not let the fabric rub the stitches. He gave one long tentative lick up her slit. She was wet, he could get lost in the taste and smell. Her body twitched when the flat of his tongue glided over her clit. Good, he thought. His tongue worked well practiced techniques. He was determined to make her beg for more. His mouth vacuumed over her nub and a thick finger slid into wet heat.

"fuck," she breathed out, her hips involuntary moved into him. They found a rhythm quickly. The hand in his hair suddenly tightened its grip, her nails dug into his scalp. "Up."

He obeyed.

"get your fucking clothes off," she said standing up and went and dug through a bag. He stripped in record time, and stood next to the bed, waiting and hard. She came back and gave him a once over. She pushed him down on the bed, he scrambled to regain composure. So she wasn't begging, this was almost better. She slid a condom on him, and mounted him. He slid in, she was so tight and it had been awhile. He wasn't going to last long. God it felt good. His hands gripped her small frame to steady her as she rode him. She swiveled her hips as he pistoned into her, she was gasping now. He'd found her spot. He thrust harder. He closed his eyes, taking in the sensation of her gasps and keens, the feeling of her. He was almost there. He felt her tighten and she let out a loud moan as her body shook with pleasure.

"Fuck! Oh god, Cas!" he thrust one more time, coming into the writhing woman. It took a moment to register what had just happened, he was hazy with endorphins. Oh fuck, Cas. She slid off him and smiled a wicked grin.

"Cas? Hm," she paused, "It wasn't all bad hunting wis you. See you around Winchester." She lit a cigarette and effectively forgot about Dean.

Oh fuck. Oh shit.

Cas.

He pulled on his pants numbly, gathered his things, and left without a word.

What had he just done?

Cas.

How could he do that to Cas?

He hated himself.

He walked into his room without turning on the light.

"Dean," the angel on the bed said in his dark monotone voice.

Oh, fuck.


	12. Chapter 12

His first instinct was to run. He knew he wouldn't get very far, not with Cas looking for him.

Castiel was sitting on the bed in steely silence. Dean was still standing in the doorway trying to figure out how much distance he could put between him and the angel before he got mojoed. His rumbled shirt and underwear were in his hands, his feet shoved in boots haphazardly, his belt wasn't fastened properly on his jeans.  
>There was no way he could escape this, and he knew it.<p>

"Cas! Hey. What a surprise," he was genuinely surprised, but considering he'd been standing there for at least sixty seconds trying to figure out how to react it was more lie than truth. He shut and bolted the door.

"I told you I was coming, you knew or you wouldn't have gotten a separate room."

"Yeah, but you hadn't showed for a couple days. I figured you had, you know, gotten tied up…"

The other man was silent. Dean moved to set his things down on the small table in the room. His back was to Castiel. Maybe he doesn't know, he thought.

"Now that you're done with your wanton betrayal, do you have time for me?" his voice was as cold as ice and it hit Dean like a punch in the gut.

"Cas, I—"

"It was a yes or no question," the voice was calm and even. He was sitting on the bed, still facing the door. Dean was watching him, but the angel would not turn to meet him.

"Yes."

"Would you like to tell me why you would commit infidelity?"

"I cou—"

"Yes or no, Dean."

Dean was going from terrified to angry at a breakneck speed. Castiel was trying to control a tornado of anger and confusion. He stomped to a position in front of the angel.

The hunter gritted his teeth, "Yes, Cas."

"Speak."

"It was an accident. I couldn't help myself."

"Was she a siren or a succubus?" he still would not look at Dean, instead focusing on the door. His calm was like being stabbed with icicle.

"No."

"Did she put a spell on you?"

"No."

Castiel said nothing. Dean's hands were clenched in tight fist, he was simmering with rage.

"With the adrenaline from the raid, and the situation I was in. Come on, Cas. The hormones, pheromones. It was instinct!"

"Instinct?" The angel's voice was dripping with venom. Suddenly everything flashed white as the back of Dean's head hit the wall. The hand that had been so gentle to him previously had a vice grip on his throat. "You know what my instinct is, Dean?"

Dean was wide eyed with shock.

"Answer me," he growled.

Dean attempted to shake his head under the angel's unrelenting hand.

"It's to kill, Dean. It's to kill people who betray me," Castiel was looking him straight in the eyes, the hunter was too scared, too angry to look away. "You forget I am a soldier, Dean. My life is killing. I don't even have to move a muscle. I just have to wish it," the hand gripped tighter around his throat. He couldn't breathe.

"Cas," he rasped out.

The hand didn't move. The blue eyes looked like the bottoms of flames.

"I have done everything you have ever asked of me, Dean Winchester. I gave up everything for you. I gave you back your life."

Lack of oxygen was freckling Dean's vision with black spots.

"You made a promise to me, Dean Winchester."

The hand disappeared from around his throat; he collapsed on the floor gasping for air. The angel was back on the bed, staring at the wall.

"Please," Dean begged for the first time in his life, his voice weak from the crushing fingers of his lover. "Cas, I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry."

He would not look at the man kneeling before him, but softly said, "I know you called out my name. I heard you yelling for me. It's why I came. I thought you needed me," He looked at Dean, the clear blue eyes overflowed as he did. Dean wasn't aware angels could cry or that they ever did, his heart sank.

"I do need you. Fuck, I don't know. I wasn't thinking. Cas…Castiel,_ please._"

He reached to put a hand on Cas's leg, but he pulled it away, shunning him. His eyes went back to the door. Like he expected something else to come through it and change what had happened. Dean shrank back defeated. He was still on his knees, pleading to the angel with his eyes. It went unseen. Castiel couldn't bear to face him, not right now. He'd trusted him. He loved him. But he could not abide this.

"What is that rule in baseball?" his lips hardly moved he spoke so quietly, "Three strikes and you're out?" He looked at the man on the floor, "Strike one."

And he was gone.

Author's note: Thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews! I really appreciate them. I'll try to keep updating most days, but with classes begun again and traveling home for a funeral this weekend it might be a little tough. thank you again for all the support, it means a lot to me.


	13. Chapter 13

It sounded like the beginning of a bad joke; so three hunters are sitting at the table playing cards, and one of them says…

"Do you think people ever change?"

"You idgit."

"I was just asking a question, Bobby."

"People don't ask that kinda question 'less they did something stupid. And looking at the mouth it's coming from, stupid's pretty much assured."

Sam laughed, Dean frowned. He was losing miserably; he was too busy thinking about the fight to play the other hunters in even the simplest of card games. He threw his hand down with a sigh.

"Who wants another beer?"

"I'm the last person that should be sayin' anything 'bout drinking, but maybe you wouldn't be losing all your money if you hadn't been drinking since you dragged your sorry ass outta bed this mornin'," Bobby chided.

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

"It means we're tired of watching you get up mope around drinking. All you do is watch Doctor Sexy and shoot down leads I find."

"Sam's right Dean, you ain't done nothin' since you got here a week ago."

"I'm just having an off spell, fuck off. Sammy went to Stanford, Bobby you're a hermit anyways. Can't I just have a little time off without anyone ragging on me? Goddamn!" he stomped out. Dean was prone to hissy fits when things didn't go his way, though no one had the guts to point it out to him.

"What the hell's got his panties in such a twist?"

"He's been like this since the vamp raid with Marya."

"You think it's about her? I've met the lady, she could bust his balls good if he messed up with her."

"There was a lipstick kiss print on the driver's side window of the impala the next morning so I don't think things went badly between them. I mean she was a stone cold bitch, but she gave respect where it was due."

They both had set down their cards. The game spirit had been lost with Dean's temper. Sammy thought for a moment.

"You know, I haven't seen Cas since then. Every time I ask Dean how things are going he gets all mad and," Sam paused to get into character, puffing out his chest and overdramatically scowling, "'Everything's fine, Sammy. It's none of your business anyways so leave it alone.'"

"That idgit. He slept with her."

"Oh shit. We've seen what happens when you piss off an angel."

"That numbskull. Goodness gracious, do you boys ever do anything without making a mess of things?"

Upstairs Dean lay on the old sunken mattress of the only home he'd ever had. Bobby's house was a labyrinth of spare rooms filled with junk and extra beds for wayward hunters needing a bed, but Sam and Dean both had _their_ rooms. His fingers drummed on the wrought iron frame. He could hear the muffled voices from below, and he knew they were talking about him. He listened to the sounds of the dilapidated house and after a while the footfalls of the men retiring to their rooms. His mind drifted to Cas. He hadn't seen him since the fight. He didn't think they were over; he had two more strikes according to his boyfriend. They had both definitely needed some time to cool down. He wondered what angels did to relax. They probably didn't. Cas had been awfully uptight before they started spending so much time together. Angels were workaholics, and normally hunters were too. Dean's normal response to unwelcome emotion was to hunt anything and everything. If it could bleed, he would drain it. If it could be killed, it had met its match. But right now he simply couldn't muster up energy to care about anything other than moping. Saying he felt terrible would be like saying the Titanic hit an ice cube. He hated himself for what he'd done. He loved Castiel, he would do anything for him, or at least that's what he thought. Was it simply his nature to not be tied down to one person? He knew enough to realize instinct drove him to seek out many women. It was survival instinct to mate with as many women as he could. He liked to be with women. But he loved to be with Cas. Just sitting in silence with him was enough to make his entire week. When the angel was gone he felt as if someone had taken a piece out of him. Cas had grown to know him, his true inner self, better than anyone. Around Cas his macho façade wasn't necessary. And he'd just shattered that into a million pieces because of hormones and irresistible proximity. Way to go, Dean.

The old house creaked in the wind; he could hear the trees rustling outside but also the now familiar sound of wings. He looked around the small room but couldn't see anything. The room was dimly illuminated by floodlights watching over the scrap yard pouring through the window.

"Cas?"

"Hello, Dean," he said as he stepped into the stream of light.

"Cas, I'm—I just want—I missed you."

"I missed you too."

"Are you still mad?"

"I believe I am what they call 'peeved,'" he looked thoughtful, Dean sighed at the sight of the beautiful man before him. "I'm very hurt by your actions."

"I know. I'm an asshole, Cas."

"I agree."

"I'm so fucking sorry. I got carried away, I should have known better. But I just…I'm sorry. There is no excuse for what I did, it was horrible."

"I meant what I said. About the three strikes."

"I know."

"I love you, Dean. But I cannot abide betrayal. You chose to be with me, if you do not want to you are free to leave."

Dean shot off the bed. He overcame his initial instinct to be defensive and instead moved closer to the angel, "I chose this. I chose you."

"You chose her too."

Ouch.

"Cas, I fucked up. I'm sorry, okay?" He reached out and took Castiel's hands in his, "It was a mistake I will never make again. I'm…I…I love you."

"Never again?" The angel's posture relaxed for the first time.

"Never."

"Do you swear it?"

"On whatever I have left of my soul."

"You have your complete soul, I patched it myself."

"Then I swear on everything."

"Okay."

"Okay? We're okay?"

"Yes."

Dean threw his arms around the angel in relief. He breathed in the smell of him, of the trench coat, and felt their bodies relax in each other's arms as Castiel returned the hug.

"I'm so sorry," he said into the angel's shoulder. "I love you."

"I love you too."

He kissed the angel. It felt like their first kiss, full of longing and promise. He never knew what he had until he was on the verge of losing it. He vowed he'd never do that again. But somewhere in the back of his mind, the answer to his earlier question scratched at him.  
>No, people never do change.<p>

He prayed that wasn't true.


	14. Chapter 14

The weaknesses of angels are not well known. Angel blades and holy oil being the most common, but there are some other rarer things. Things irresistible to angels, things hardly known to man at all. It was the scent that caught his attention, and the song that lured him in. The pull was strong enough to pull him off his assignment. To pull and angel away from an order was an unearthly power. Something almost as strong as angel's themselves possessed it. His senses led him to a small rocky island in the middle of Lake Superior. The trench coat flapped in the wind as cold water sprayed at his face. This place was something too barren to be habitable by anything human, too cold and harsh to sustain life. Yet out of the dark surf walked a being of ethereal beauty and unparalleled horror. The angel could not look away. He could not run away. Her skin was translucent and giving off an eerie glow, as if she was a jelly fish that became human. Her hair was the color of the angry water, long and clinging to her body. She held out a hand of long lethal claws webbed together with filmy skin to the angel, and led him into the small wood on the island. He did not resist, he did not pull away. His eyes never left her face, he noticed she had demon eyes, but this was unlike any demon he'd ever met.

"I never want to hunt another sasquatch again."

"Who knew those suckers would be so hard to kill."

"And the smell!"

The brothers shook their heads in mutual disgust.

"Aww, first bear hunt?" The waitress well past her prime asked as she walked to the table.

"Yeah, something like that."

"Never quite is what you expect. What can I get you boys?"

Before they could answer, a boy no older than 19 walked up to them. He was the color of creamed coffee with almond eyes and wild hair. He carried with him a surreal calm.

"Leave us," he commanded the waitress. She left as if I hypnotized. He made a motion for Dean to scoot over so he could join them in the booth.

"Uh, can we help you?" he asked impatiently.

"You are friends of Castiel."

The brothers looked at each other uncertainly.

"I'm his brother, Remiel."

"Great, more angels. What's this about, Remi?"

"Castiel is missing."

"He's _what?_" voicing their belief in unison.

"He is hidden from us. We are not able to track him. He never made it to, nor returned from his mission. He was last seen in this area. It was decided that you may be of help."

"And what if we're not?" Sam asked tentatively.

"Then we assume Castiel is lost. We have been searching for three days."

"Only three days?"

"Three days to you is akin to a year to us, Samuel Winchester. Time is relative to the being."

"It's just Sam."

"So you guys are just going to give up on him? Just leave him to die? Some family you are."

"I was told you have a special attachment to Castiel," he looked at Dean who looked like he was about to shoot flaming holy oil out of his eyes at the angel.

"What of it."

"You may know where he has gone."

"I haven't seen him since before he disappeared."

"So then Castiel is lost," something flashed across his face, a hint of emotion for a fallen brother. "Thank you for your help."

The two men were left alone in the booth, neither had an appetite left. They left and drove back to their motel in silence. Sam was desperate to help his brother; Dean was desperate to help Castiel.

"Dean, do you think Cas has that phone you gave him?"

She whispered enochian in his ear, promises of things more beautiful than he'd ever seen. Long rituals are hard to complete when you can only live in the dark. He stayed, he wouldn't disobey her, couldn't disobey her. He had to stay, see her again. He could not see anything beyond the island, or hear, or feel. His grace blocked by something he'd never felt. But it was nice, so nice and silent. No one calling to him, or ordering him. He just sat and watched the sun move across the sky and waited for her return. When the sun dipped below the horizon and she stepped out of the violent lake he followed her back to the wood. He would sit on the altar she had carved out of the ancient stone with her malicious hands and she would groom his grace. Her claws laced ancient threads of magic through his grace, through his feathers and down to the tips of his wings. They were gentle, she sang to him as they branched out through him, her voice dulled the pain. The choking vines spidered through his grace.

"Soon," she keened in a voice that sounded like water trickling over pebbles. He couldn't wait for the time to come, though he was unsure of what it would bring.

"Listen, I'll give you $1000 right now if you take us to that island."

"Do you not see the storm brewing? It's almost dark, it'd be suicide."

"Do you not see the size of my fist?" Dean was frantic.

"What will it take for you to do this?"

"$2500."

"It's yours. Let's go," Dean said shoving past the man onto the boat. He was less a fan of water travel than he was of flying, but Cas. "Thank god for GPS. That was a good move, Sammy."

"I know how important he is to you," He put a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Hey, no chick-flick moments."

Dean's nails had been chewed to the flesh. He hadn't stopped nervously fidgeting since Remiel had left. He didn't know if it was the rough water making him nauseated or the thought of Castiel being hurt.

"We're almost there. I wasn't sure if there was still a dock on that island, but lucky for you crazy bastards I called a buddy in the coast guard and he said there still is."

Within an hour they were docked, finally on solid ground Dean could breathe again. It was late, the clock on his cell phone read 3:37am. He grabbed a flashlight and stumbled around the rocky coastline calling to his angel.

The angel could not hear the voice crying his name. He could only hear the song of the mermaid lacing her tentacles into his grace to steal it.


	15. Chapter 15

His frantic feet fumbled on the rocky shore, the tough boots sliding on slippery stones. He couldn't keep the flashlight beam steady; the sound of the angry surf filled his ears. He was cold and wet; he'd circled the small island three times by now.

"Castiel! Cas! Come out you winged bastard!"

He tripped back to the creaking dock.

"Sammy, tell me you found something. Anything at all." Sam shook his head and held out a blue tie. Dean took it gingerly with both hands, like it was going to break if he handled it too roughly. Suddenly he was grabbing Sam and screaming, "Where did you find this? Show me before I throw you in the lake" So Sam led him to a small path leading into the interior of the forest. About fifteen feet in was a trench coat. Then a suit coat. Then a white dress shirt made translucent by the rain and trod on with muddy footprints. He gathered these things in his arms and clung to them as if they were treasures of insurmountable value. Then there was a belt. Shoes. Socks. Pants. Boxers. He carried them all in his arms, Sam fussing about Dean tripping in the dark. Dean didn't hear his brother; he just saw that the tiny path started to give way to a clearing. He stopped so abruptly Sam ran into and Dean dropped his discarded treasures. For a second he didn't know whether to be scared or in awe. There was Castiel, splayed out on a large rock alter, wings and all, with his head in the lap of an eerily beautiful being who was stroking his hair. It reminded Dean of a painting he'd seen on his second date with Cas called The Lament of Icarus. He was frozen. The being stopped grooming the angel when she noticed the brothers. Dean noticed for the first time Castiel's whole body looked as if someone put neon in his veins. Tendrils of luminescent blue extended down his limbs and over his torso.

"Cas!" he screamed. But then she screamed too. It was a piercing howl that brought the boys to their knees. His head felt like it was exploding. It was debilitating loud. Sam had passed out, Dean was barely conscious.

The mermaid went back to sucking the grace from Castiel. It flowed into her body like warm honey. Her thread thin tentacles invading his body and soul, turning the shining grace into thick blackness. Soon she would be as powerful as him.

He had to save Castiel. His hands clawed at the ground to move him closer. His hands pushed through the pile of clothing he'd dropped, they hit something hard. The angel blade. He slipped it in his jacket, and pulled himself along the ground as stealthily as he could in his current state. Everything seemed foggy, his ears were still ringing.

She saw the pathetic hunter pulling himself towards the altar. He was of no concern. She was almost done anyways, and then she would simply steal his soul as dessert. She laughed and it sounded like gulls crying. He probably felt like he was doing so well. He was at the base of the stone, dragging himself along toward her.

Almost there, almost to her, almost to him. Castiel looked so tragic up close. His skin was sallow and he shined with sweat. There was a pained look on his face, and his eyes fluttered as if he were deep in dream. Whatever she was, she was bad news. He could see her fingers branched into his skin. He'd seen some gruesome stuff, but this was terrifying on a new level. She was sucking the life from an angel.

Sam's head hurt, it felt like someone had thrown it in a blender. He couldn't move much, but he had to find Dean. It took all the strength he had to lift his head, he saw Dean stand on shaky legs behind whatever _she_ was. Her vicious mouth set in a prideful smirk. Dean didn't stand a chance. Something glinted in the air and something bloomed on her throat. Luminous blue blood poured down her bare body, some of it trickled over the angel. He could see the neon blue marbling the angel's body fade away, Dean pushed the strange creature off the altar, angel blade still stuck through her throat. He crawled onto the altar and took the place at Cas' head, instead wiping the fading blue blood from him.

"Cas, wake up. Come on, buddy. Castiel, wake up," he pleaded. "Please, Cas."

"Well done Dean Winchester," Remiel had appeared next to the corpse. He poked at it with his foot, "Mermaid. Probably the last one, they survive on the grace of angels. She was able to block us from finding him by using his own grace." He was talking to the air, Dean was too busy trying to get a response from his angel.

"Remi, help him."

"He cannot be helped here. I must take him home."

Dean didn't want to leave Castiel. He was too afraid of never seeing him again.

"Dean?" cracked lips rasped out.

"Cas, if you die I will fucking kill you."

The angel smiled weakly at his hunter, eyes still closed, before he passed back into unconsciousness. Dean set his head down gently and rose from the altar.

"If he doesn't survive, I will personally make it my mission to find and kill every angel that gave up on him."

"Some would say that is impossible, but I watched my brother raise a damned soul from Hell and heal it, and many said it couldn't be done."

They all watched the broken angel on his bed of stone. Dean wished he could have seen his angel's wings under different circumstances. They were beautiful, dark brown and gold. The rain slipped down them frictionlessly. He wanted to feel them, but now wasn't the time to partake in such intimate pleasures. Remiel healed the Winchesters wordlessly. He gathered up Castiel's body in his arms and departed.

Dean prayed to God to heal Castiel the whole rough trip back to the mainland. He pulled his soaking clothes off and stepped into the shower, the warm water burning his frozen skin.  
>Sam pretended not to hear his brother sobbing in the shower, and instead left a bottle of Jack Daniels on his pillow. Dean regarded it with disinterest upon his return. He just crawled into the bed and prayed in the darkness that he would see Castiel again.<p> 


	16. Chapter 16

He hadn't slept in days. He'd been too busy waiting for some news. Too busy praying for anyone, Remiel, Uriel, Anna, Gabriel, mostly Castiel to answer him. He'd dropped Sam at Bobby's and left when his brother was bringing his bags inside. He turned his phone on silent, he didn't want a case, he didn't want to talk to Sam or Bobby, he just wanted Cas back. There was a path worn in the shabby motel rug from where he'd been pacing. Empty bottles littered the room. If he left, it was only to acquire more alcohol. His stomach long empty and eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep. He remembered the way Castiel's body looked like a rag doll dropped from a building. The mermaid's lethal fingers embedded into his skin. The way Cas' warm skin felt under his lips. The curve of his smile. The way his hand would attach to Dean's hip when they were standing close.

Another bottle joined the collection.

"Castiel, you fucking bastard," he slurred under his breath.

"I was expecting a warmer welcome."

Dean jumped and tried to spin towards the voice, but his alcohol impaired balance sent him tumbling to the ground.

Except he never made it there.

Castiel caught the man, and lowered them both gently to the worn floor. His back against the bed, Dean's head was in his lap. He stroked the hunter's short hair gently. Dean remembered the way Cas' head looked in his lap on the altar and shuddered.

"You were dying. You were going to die," he didn't know what else to say.

"You saved me."

"I guess we're even now," he rolled over so he could look up at the angel. "You save me from hell, I save you from a mermaid. Even steven."

"Remiel told me they had given up hope of finding me."

"He told me they said it was impossible for you to save me."

Castiel didn't say anything; he continued stroking Dean's hair.

"'We've done the impossible, that makes us mighty.'"

"That's too clever to be all Dean. Where did you hear it?"

Dean laughed, the angel was right and he knew it.

"It was just some show on the science fiction channel."

"How long have you been in this room?"

"Since the day after we found you."

"That was a week and a half ago."

"Yeah."

The angel rose from the floor and helped the other man to his feet.

"Time for bed, Dean."

He didn't protest as the angel started to help him out of his clothes and into the bed. He was too unsteady to do it himself.

"Cas?"

"Yes, my love?"

"Please be here when I wake up."

"Of course," he kissed the hunter on the forehead. Dean promptly passed out.

Castiel was still sore and weak. He'd needed to be transfused with more grace. It reminded him of human blood transfusions, but it was akin to putting fire inside your veins. He needed time to heal. He'd been given time off of duty, and he knew he would have healed faster in Heaven, but he needed to see Dean. He'd heard all his prayers, a constant stream of them for days. He wasn't going to mention to Dean he'd heard the one about going to the crossroads if it would save Cas, or the one about going back to hell if it meant he'd be okay. Some things were between Dean and himself, and Castiel would let that be. He set to work picking up and discarding the empty bottles. He found fresh clothes for the hunter, and laid them on the empty side of the bed. Dean slept for twelve hours. When he awoke the angel ushered him to the shower, something about smelling like "a boar that wrestled a brewery." When he got out Cas had gotten them some coffee and breakfast. He felt a little embarrassed Cas had seen him so out of sorts. Again.

"Thanks for everything, Cas."

"It's no problem."

"You're always picking up after me though, I'm sorry."

"Eat your sausage and stop being a baby, Dean Winchester. I do it because I love you."

Dean smiled, he liked when the angel got all bossy. They ate in silence, just enjoying each other's company. Both of the men felt at rest for the first time since the whole ordeal began, trading smiles with the other, stealing food from the other, and just taking in the sight of the other being okay. When they had finished eating, Dean watched Castiel do the crossword in the paper he had picked up. He enjoyed moments like these, watching the angel become a man. Sometimes he worried about him falling, but he that would mean Castiel would just be with him, and live a human life with him. That didn't sound too bad to Dean. He got up and walked around the table behind his significant other. His hands gripped Cas' shoulders firmly, "I saw your wings."

"Oh. I wasn't told that."

The hands massaged his shoulders, pausing to pull off the trench coat and suit coat, "They were beautiful, Cas. I'd like to see them again sometime. Preferably not when a fucking mermaid is sucking the life out of you."

His whole body was a bit sore still, he couldn't decide if the hands kneading his back felt good or bad. They pressed where the base of his wings would be and he gasped quietly.

"I'm sorry, am I hurting you?" the hands pulled away, his back felt cold where they'd been.

"I'm still healing. Getting your grace healed, it's a very intense procedure."

"Oh man, I'm sorry. I should have asked. I should have found you sooner."

He stood up and grabbed Dean by the shoulders, "You saved me when everyone else had given up hope. You, Dean Winchester, raised _me_ from perdition." The angel kissed him hard. He kissed him like the antidote to all his ills could be found in Dean's lips, because to him it could. They needed each other. Hands hurriedly tearing off clothes, they needed to have nothing between them. Castiel led them to the bed, for the first time Dean noticed he could still see marks on the angel from where the tendrils had dug too deep to be healed completely. So deep they even scarred his vessel. His fingers hovered over them, his lips kissed them gently. Castiel wasn't sure what side of pain or pleasure that action registered on, it made him shiver and it made his cock twitch. Dean's trained eyes scanned every inch of the angel's body, kissing and laving over every mark he saw. He couldn't miss what it did the other man, at this point he was teasing him. Kissing down his hips, biting at the ridges of his toned body. If he continued like this, Cas was going to blow before Dean ever made it to his dick. Watching the angel twitch and grow hard under his touch was almost too much for Dean himself to take; every sigh and gasp he made had Dean's heart pounding harder. His tongue trailed back up Cas' torso, to his neck, to his mouth. He smirked when Cas gasped into the kiss when Dean's hand wrapped around his aching cock. His own felt painfully neglected, but he didn't care. He was so close just watching his lover come so undone.

"Come on, Cas. Come for me, babe."

That did it; it pushed Castiel over the edge. His head tossed back, eyes lidded, mouth agape moaning out. He spilled over Dean's hand and onto his stomach. Watching him come to completion pushed Dean, still untouched, over the edge too. He collapsed next to his lover, "I hope that doesn't set back your healing."

"Isn't there a song called 'Sexual Healing?'"

"Did Castiel 'I-Don't-Understand-That-Reference' Angel-of-the-Freaking-Lord just make a pop culture reference? I guess old dogs can learn new tricks."

"Hey, Dean?"

"Yeah, babe?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, Cas," he leaned over to kiss the angel. "Now enough with the mushy moments. I'm going to go get some movies, and we're going to heal you the Dean Winchester way?"

"With bad action movies and Chinese takeout?"

"Exactly!" He beamed at the angel.

"I think I was better off in Heaven."

They both dissolved into laughter.

All was right again.


	17. Chapter 17

He watched his brother's hands drum the wheel to the beat, the smiling mouth roughly singing the words. Dean was happy. He was happier than Sam had ever seen him.

"Whatchya staring at, Sammy? Do I got some pie left on my face?"

"What? No, sorry."

"Sammy, you're such a little freak sometimes," he smiled at his little brother.

"Better than a pompous ass," he smiled back. Dean went back to singing. Sometimes Sam could see their father in Dean. He'd never say it though. Dean had loved his father, admired him. But only Sam knew what else Dean felt about John Winchester. Sam had seen the bruises left on Dean for years. Heard the rants and raves after John had passed out drunk again about all he had to do was pick up a knife and they'd be free of him. Dean's biggest secret was how much he hated his father for what he'd done to the brothers. When Dean got big enough to fight back, John had stopped. Dean chose to block out all that happened, but you could see the contempt in his eyes when he talked about John.

"I know about the journal Cas got you."

"It wasn't really a secret, Sammy. Thanks for the lack of birthday gift by the way, jerk," he teased.

"It's like dad's."

Dean's jaw set, "How observant, Sam."

"Do you ever think about him?"

Dean didn't say anything.

"Do you remember that night, I think we were in Illinois, he came home so drunk he could hardly stand. And he started yelling at me, 'You brought the demon, Sam. You killed her.' And he hit me. And you broke his nose for it."

"Grown men shouldn't be beating up eleven year old kids, he deserved it. Why the fuck are we talking about this?"

"Do you ever talk to Cas about it?"

"About what? Dad? About getting the shit beat out of me? About hating my own father? No, Sam. I don't fucking tell Cas."

"Why?"

"He already knows. He's been watching since mom died," he said quietly. His teeth were grinding, and his knuckles white around the steering wheel.

"What a great guardian angel."

"That was my response," he paused, "He's not a guardian. He said he 'merely took interest in a special soul to understand human history,' blah blah blah cryptic Castiel shit."

"Do you talk about other stuff that bothers you with him?"

"Like my nosey brother? Yeah. We talk about everything. What's with the Q and A, Sammy?"

"Do you talk about Hell?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"What the fuck is your problem?"

"You're happy. It's weird."

"I'm sorry?"

"I wanted to know if you're actually dealing with stuff or just covering it up."

"We haven't talked about Hell."

"Why?"

"God it's like you're seven years old again 'why, why, why?' because neither of us are ready to talk about it."

"So you _are_ just covering it up."

"Sammy, how about you shut the fuck up and mind your own damn business. I'm happy because Cas makes me happy. Because I finally have someone I can just relax with. Who won't judge me or tease me or use me. It's simple. The dude is in my life and here to say. What do you want me to say?"

"Do you think dad would be okay with it?"

"Jesus Christ, are you trying to get me to hit you?" Sam just waited for his brother to respond. Dean wouldn't look at him, just straight ahead at the road. "No, I think dad would kick my ass for it."

"Because he's a guy or because he's an angel?"

"Both, and because 'getting attached means losing focus on your work. The only person you are supposed to look out for is Sam and yourself.'"

"Do you like him because you get away from me?"

"What?"

"You can get away from me if he's around."

"Are you jealous of my boyfriend? Sammy, I have spent almost every day of my life with you since you were six months old. You are the most important person to me. But that doesn't mean I don't want to punch you in the face sometimes…I'd be lost without you dude, you know that. But yeah, it's really nice to just have some breathing room. You said the same thing about Stanford, so don't you dare get mad at me."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

It really was. Dean understood. They only had each other. Sam feared losing Dean to Castiel the same way Dean feared losing Sammy to the demon blood or to Ruby.

"I'm happy for you, Dean. Really. The way you guys look at each other, it's how I would look at Jess."

"Thanks, Sammy," he'd relaxed finally.

"Do you ever worry that you're going to end up like him?"

"Obsessed to the point of hurting the only people I have?"

"Yeah."

"No. Not even a little bit. I got you to look out for me. I got Bobby to keep my ego from getting too big, and god knows Cas can and will kick the shit out of me if I fuck him over."

"What happened with Marya?"

"Nothing good."

"Was Cas mad?"

"Mad doesn't even begin to cover it, Sammy."

"But you guys are alright now?"

"We love each other. We worked it out. It's what functional relationships are like."

"Is _The_ Dean Winchester settling down?" Sam teased.

"Sammy, I will punch you."

They both laughed for a while and just dissolved into silence, listening to the music and lost in thought.

"Dean?"

"What is it now, are you going to ask me my shoe size?"

"I already know that. No, I was going to say that I realize I'm an adult, but I still look up to you. Seeing you so happy with Cas gives me hope for things to work out for me. Maybe someday get out of hunting and settle down and have a family."

"Cas and I are not having little winged babies if that's what you're implying."

"No I mean, even with all the hunting bullshit, you found love."

"It kind of waltzed into hell and dragged me out, but yeah I guess."

"Well, it gives me hope no matter the case."

Dean didn't tease him during this moment, didn't even consider it. "I'm glad," was all he said. And he truly meant it.

Author's Note: Thank you all so much for the favorites/followings and reviews! I really appreciate it all. Reviews are love. Hope you don't mind little interlude chapters like this, I think they're important.


	18. Chapter 18

He watched the dust particles swirl through the air, the precise swirls bending in the sunlight as if the light itself held weight. His arm was around his angel who's head rested on his chest. He liked the weight of it, and the feeling of the stubble of Castiel's jaw pressed into his skin. The other man idly traced the lines of muscles on Dean's torso and down a small trail of hair leading below the almost seamless band of his boxer briefs. Dean tried to enjoy the moment, but he'd been too busy mulling over his conversation with Sam from a couple days earlier.

"What was it like?"

"It was fantastic, it always is," he sighed dreamily and pressed smiling kisses into Dean's chest.

"Well I'm glad to hear that," he squeezed his angel a little closer to him, "but that's not what you meant…What was it like, going into hell?"

Castiel lifted himself so he could look at Dean, "Why do you want to know that?" The clear blue eye's searched the other face; they were filled with worry and confusion, the brow above them furrowed with concern.

"I just…It's a big part of our relationship. It's how we met. And it's a huge part of my life, Cas. I want to know what happened."

Castiel resumed his position on Dean as the other man wouldn't look at him. That was Dean, he would ask the tough question, but he couldn't face them. "I lead a contingent of nine angels. We started the day you died. It took us a week, in your time, just to break open the gates," he drew a small invisible line on one side of dean's hips and tapped it as if he were showing Dean a diagram. "We used enochian spells and the ilk to open them. And we did it rather quickly, but the gates of Hell are guarded by beasts," he drew small circles on each side of the line marking the gate. "We had to fight them off. Once we opened the gates we were immediately assaulted by hoards of demons. Dante's model of hell, with the different sections of hell was surprisingly accurate, though there are about fifteen different sections. You were in the last section. It's similar to your prisons, with the deeper sections having more protection and reinforcements. The first two were easily bypassed, but when it got to the third, there were extra demons hiding behind pillars of bodies and ash. We lost three angels between the third and sixth regions," he tapped more invisible marks on the torso, slowly making his way across. "I got hurt in the thirteenth region," his nail gently scratched an X into Dean's skin, "We lost two more by the time we got to you." He drew a circle on the hip opposite of the one he'd started on; again he tapped it as if showing him a game plan.

"What was I like when you found me? How long had it been?"

"In your time, it had been three months. Thirty years in hell," he hesitated. It pained him to think of Dean the way he'd found him. To think of what he'd endured, and what he'd done. "You were in pieces. Not just your body, but your soul. When I got to you, you were chained with hooks through your body, to minotaurs, and when you refused to do what Alastair told you to do they would be whipped until they ran and the hooks ripped out," he felt Dean take a sharp breath. "I gathered you, and the remaining two angels and myself flew as fast as we could out of there. I heeled you while we flew," the finger lightly dragged a nail from the invisible circle to the beginning line. "The other two were lost as we fled. You and I are the only ones that made it out," he rested his hand flat on Dean's hip, his mouth pressed into his chest. "I sewed you back together using my own grace," kissing up his shoulder, "but I needed to return to Heaven, I was badly injured." Castiel kissed across his jaw, to his mouth, "And then you called to me. And I came." He kissed Dean deeply.

"Did you expect me to call you?"

"No, I did not. But we would have contacted you eventually."

"'We,' not you? Would you not have come to me?"

"If it was asked of me. I had become bonded to you, I wasn't sure what would happen if you and I met. I didn't want to…Inconvenience you."

"Well then you probably shouldn't have saved me from Hell just to drag me back into a war."

Castiel said nothing, just laid his head back down.

"That sounded really ungrateful. Sorry, I'm a dick. Cas, I'm glad you came when I called."

"I didn't really have a choice, but I am quite glad I did too."

"I guess you know what I went through in hell."

"I do."

"You still love me? Even though I tortured people. Cas I tore people up until there was nothing left," he took a shaky breath, "just to put them back together and tear them up again."

"You didn't have a choice, Dean."

"What if I said I liked it?"

"Did you?" Castiel knew Dean wouldn't meet his eyes if he tried, so he just listen to the man's heartbeat with his head on his chest. It was quicker than previously, he was nervous.

"Sometimes. After thirty years, I just had so much anger I wanted to destroy everything around me. And I got to. It felt good."

"It's the same concept as screaming or hitting a wall for catharsis."

"Sometimes, even though there are innocent people in the demons we gank…It feels good. Goddammit Cas, killing shouldn't feel good. I'm scared of myself. What if I turn on Sammy one day? Or you?"

Castiel stroked a thumb over the hunters hip soothingly, "I can see your soul, you would never do such things. You did not escape hell without scars, Dean. But you are not a monster."

"When you made me torture Alastair…"

"Dean," he breathed out quietly. Nothing had pained him more than that. Asking him to face the _thing_ that caused all his pain.

"I loved it. I was so scared, but finally, it was my turn."

"I shouldn't have asked that of you."

"You had no choice."

They laid in silence for some time. Dean's heart had calmed and the air felt less tense.

"I've seen everything in your life, Dean. But I don't know everything about your life. Do you understand?"

"Yeah."

"I will love you no matter what."

"I love you, Cas."

"I love you too."

A thought popped into Castiel's head, "So your time in hell. You became more rough, hardened after it, correct."

"Uh, yeah, I guess."

Castiel lifted his head with a wicked smile, his once gentle hand suddenly gripped Dean's hip tightly, nails biting into flesh. "Does that mean you like things a more roughly than you did before?" He kissed Dean hard. "Remember, I've seen _everything._" Dean blushed, which was rare for him. But the thought of the angel witnessing all his romps was a little more than embarrassing. Castiel's eyes were full of lust, "Tell me, Dean, do you like this?" his husky voice was low and seductive, the plush lips moved to his chest before a tongue darted out to lick Dean's nipple gently. He breathed in sharply. Castiel's wicked grin was back, he bit down. Not hard, in case he was wrong, but enough to elicit a response.

"Fuck, Cas" Dean breathed out, his body tried to arch up into the mouth, but the nails digging into his hip kept him in place. They raked across the sensitive skin of his hips, raising red lines in their wake. They slipped into his underwear, he was already half hard. "Castiel, what are you doing?"

"Having some fun, my lover." His hand wrapped around Dean's girth, "guess I was right." The smirk on his face drove Dean wild. His eyes closed as Castiel started to stroke. Suddenly the hand was gone, instead slapping his face and gripping his jaw roughly, "Look at me while I have my way with you."

"Oh, fuck you." He rolled onto Castiel. The smirking angel below him looked beyond tempting, "I don't think I'm the only one who likes a little pain." He leaned down to kiss the angel, instead biting his lower lip while his hand fisted in the angel's hair. Cas let out a low laugh, Dean could feel his hardness pressing into his thigh.

"You'd be right."

"That's it. I can't take this anymore," he pulled the angel's underwear down, making sure his nails caught on the tanned skin. Dean wondered for the first time how he was so evenly tanned all over. Castiel shivered. Dean leaned over to the bedside table and pulled a small bottle of lube, he'd started keeping it there, just in case he finally felt ready to go all the way. Castiel tried to pull him in for a kiss, but the other man's hand wrapped around his throat firmly, "No. You will wait." Cas feigned a pout, but his eyes screamed with hunger and excitement. He finished discarding the angel's undergarments, and spread his legs apart. He nipped at the angel's inner thighs. He spent time sucking bruises into them, making the angel emit frustrated noises.

"Dean, get the fuck to it you tease."

He popped the cap off the lube and slicked his fingers and spread a little on the angel's asshole. The sensation sent chills up Castiel's spine, he wiggled to hurry Dean on. "Patience is a virtue, Castiel." He looked into the wide blue eyes as he sunk a slick finger slowly in. the angel's mouth dropped open, and his eyes lidded. Dean kissed his inner thighs again, slowly moving the finger. Castiel remembered the time he'd lain with the human man. This was so much better because _Dean Winchester_ was nuzzling his thigh and slipping another finger in him.

"Guhhh, Dean," he moaned. Dean was the one smirking now. His hand working Cas's ass, he kissed up his stiff shaft.

"So you like this?"

The angel nodded, and made and incoherent noise as Dean's tongue lapped at him and the fingers scissored to open him up.

"Speak up, Castiel," he not so gently added a third lube slicked finger.

"Fuck!" he cried out, he couldn't stop his hips from pushing back into Dean. "Yes, fuck. I need you."

"That's what I like to hear." He raised himself to align with the angel. Secretly he was nervous. He didn't want it to be bad for Castiel. It had taken him a long time to work up courage to get this far. He loved him. This was not just mindless emotionless sexy. This was because all he wanted to do was become one with Castiel. He leaned down and kissed the angel. It was deep and lingering and left them both out of breath. He slid into his lover. Castiel's head went back, his body tensing and then relaxing with the sensations. Pain flowed into pleasure, and soon he was impatient for more.

"What the fuck are you waiting for?"

Dean bucked roughly, "you better not cum until I'm ready." They found a pace quickly. It wasn't frantic, but it was passionate. They couldn't take their eyes off one another. Dean reached down and stroked Castiel, and while adjusting to compensate for only one hand anchored to the man hit something deep inside Cas.

"Oh FUCK! Right there!" he yelled. There were stars in his vision and his whole body shook.

"Anything you say," he punctured with his hips hard. Castiel was gasping for air, he was so close.

"Dean, I—fuck"

"Come on, Castiel," he growled.

The hunter's eyes locked with his angel's, one more stroke of his hips hit home and Castiel's head rolled back. He was coming too hard all over Dean's hand to make more than a guttural moan. He looked so beautiful, his body writhing and arched in ecstasy, Dean thought. His body spasming around him Dean quickly followed suit. He rode off his orgasm, filling the angel. He collapsed next to Cas.

"Oh fuck. That was…"

"Incredible," Castiel finished, and wrapped his arm around the panting Dean. "You call me by my full name during sex."

"I do?"

"It's sexy," he laughed.

Dean blushed. Castiel kissed his hunter.

"Now we are one."


	19. Chapter 19

"How does this work again?" Sam asked to Dean and the Jack Russel terrier sitting on the bed. Dean tilted his head in a way that mimicked Castiel. The dog looked at Dean and barked and looked back at Sam. "Uh, alright. Dear Castiel, I need your help?"

"Sam, Dean, errant dog," the angel addressed the room. Dean growled, the dog jumped off the bed and danced to lick at Castiel's fingers. Castiel's head tilted in confusion, "Sam?"

"Great, thanks for coming! We uh, we need your help." Sam and Cas both looked at Dean who's tongue was hanging out as he panted. The dog on the floor looked up at Castiel with needy eyes.

"What did Dean do?"

"Long story short, he pissed off a gypsy, and she turned him into a dog. Said something about it being his true nature."

"I'm assuming he was trying to court the gypsy?" He shot an unamused look at the dog who laid down and put its paws over its snout. Dean spotted the strap of a duffle bag sitting on the bed and began to gnaw on it, he was on all fours on the bed, his butt up in the air while he rested on his elbows and forearms.

"In his defense it was to get some intel on our case," he paused and they both looked at the slobbering man on the bed, "but uh, clearly it didn't go as planned."

"Do you have any idea how to solve this?"

"Well I called Bobby, and he said the only way we can fix it is by getting Doggy Dean and Dean to drink of mixture of the gypsy's hair, Dean's blood, and the dog's blood."

"Which one is 'Doggy Dean?'"

"Good question."

Dean on the bed was trying to scratch his ear with his leg and the dog on the floor was still looking at Castiel pitifully. The angel picked him up and held him under his arm. He nodded towards the bed, "I guess that one is Doggy Dean." He smiled at the pup under his arm whose tail was now wagging furiously. "Now what would you like me to do?"

"Well the band of gypsies moved to the next town, so we have to go over there and distract her while I grab a couple strands of hair. I want you to watch…The Dean's, while I take care of business. I can't watch him while I work, I already found him drinking out of the toilet this morning. I got us a pet friendly motel over there, so we should probably get going. Come on, Dean!"

The dog and the man barked in response, Castiel and Doggy Dean followed Sam out to the impala. He looked disgustedly at the dufflebag he was carrying. Castiel put Dean and Doggy Dean in the back seat and crawled into the passenger side as Sam slid behind the wheel. Doggy Dean put his hand on the window and whimpered.

"Seriously?"

"Sam, appease the beast. Dean will bite your ankles if Doggy Dean messes up his car," he snickered as the dog in the backseat growled. Sam rolled down the window and Doggy Dean stuck his head out and sniffed the air.

"Do you think this will work?

Doggy Dean was pulling at the collar around his neck and the leash attached trying to chase after a butterfly. He'd kept running off when they went to the new hotel. Dean was sitting on a log watching his human counterpart while Sam adjusted his hiking gear and Castiel held fast on the leash.

"If it doesn't you can always, uh, what does Dean say?"

The dog barked as if to reply, Sam just looked at him with his eye brows raised.

"Angel whammy!" it came to him, "you can always angel whammy them."

"That's against the rules."

"It says in the rules you can't use your angelic powers to save your boyfriend from living as a dog?"

"Something like that, yes." Castiel was straight faced. Sam tried to stifle a laugh.

"Okay, here goes nothing!" Sam trotted off towards through the woods towards the sounds in the distance. His plan was to ask the gypsy who'd turned Dean for directions back to the main road. Castiel wasn't confident about the plan, but owing to the fact Sam had manners where Dean didn't, it stood a chance.

Doggy Dean was chewing at the leash, Cas sighed.

"Dean?"

Both Doggy Dean and Dean looked at him. He waved over Doggy Dean.

"If I let you off this leash, do you promise not to run off?"

Doggy Dean tilted his head in confusion for a moment, but then his eyes lit up and he nodded vigorously, his tongue lolling out of this mouth. Castiel reached up and unhooked the collar cautiously. Doggy Dean trotted off to go sniff at trees and leaves. Castiel sat down on the log next to Dean, who crawled onto his lap. Castiel scratched his ears, the dog seemed to smile.

"Angels don't have pets. Well they don't have boyfriends either."

Dean nuzzled his palm with a cold wet nose.

"I think we should get a dog someday, Dean." He looked at the fuzzy dog in his lap whose tail wagged as he looked back at Castiel. Suddenly Castiel was aware that Doggy Dean was not there anymore, he was instead bounding towards the gypsy encampment. Castiel could see him breaking into the clearing, he waited for the inevitable.

He could hear Sam's voice echo, "DEAN!" and the screams and yells of women and men. Doggy Dean and Sam came crashing through the woods, "COME ON, CAS!"

Castiel looked at the small dog in his lap who yipped and jumped down and started running towards the direction they had parked. Castiel followed the dog and Sam and Doggy Dean were close behind. Castiel liked the feeling of running. He had more stamina than humans, so it was very easy for him to run quickly and long distances. The sounds of an angry mob were close behind them.

They reached the gravel parking lot and Sam ripped the keys out of his pocket and they all seemed to jump in the car in unison as soon as the doors were unlocked. The Impala roared out of the parking lot as the gypsies ran into the clearing still yelling after the fleeing men. Sam and Castiel were laughing, the Dean's were panting in the back seat.

"Oh man," Sam laughingly gasped, "you were supposed to be watching him!"

"He slipped away," Castiel couldn't control his fit of laughter. He felt so very human. "Did you get it?"

Sam reached into his shirt pocket and fished out a lock of hair, the end had been frayed by a quick knife slice, owing to the hasty departure. The men looked at each other and were seized with another burst of laughter.

Castiel wrapped some gauze around Dean's front leg where they'd taken the blood from.

"Dean," he snapped at Doggy Dean, "Stop chewing at it." He was trying to bite the gauze off his forearm. The dog under his hands just waited patiently.

"Okay, this should be it," Sam grimaced down at the bowl and held it out to Doggy Dean who sniffed it and turned away with a look of disgust.

"Put some beer in it," Castiel suggested. "Dogs like beer."

"So does Dean. Where did you learn that?"

"Dean made me watch _Turner and Hooch_."

Sam chuckled to himself as he poured a beer into the bowl and stirred it with an unused chopstick sitting on the small table. He held it back out to Doggy Dean who lapped it up this time. He held the rest out to Dean, who looked questioningly at Sam before lapping up the remaining potion.

"How long do we have to wait?"

"YUCK! That was foul, what are you guys trying to do, kill me?" Dean was wiping his tongue and motioning for a beer to wash out the taste.

"well that was simple," Sam handed Dean a beer, "I think I liked it when you only woofed."

"Ha-ha, you jerk," he gulped down the beer.

Doggy Dean was already trying to chew the gauze on his paw.

"I think the local no-kill shelter is still open. I am going to take him over there. Cas are you sticking around tonight?"

Castiel looked at his hunter who was still trying to get the taste out of his mouth, he smile. "Yeah, I am."

Sam left them for the night, saying he'd get his own room when he returned. Dean showered and sat with Castiel eating Chinese.

"Hey Cas?" he said between giant bites of beef and broccoli, "Why didn't you just use your angel powers for like…Everything?" he ungracefully licked sauce from the corner of his mouth.

"I feel very human around you. The more time I spend with you, the more using my given powers feels like cheating, or strange."

"Yeah, you've been picking up some human shit at an alarming rate. Is it anything to worry about?"

"No," Castiel lied. He actually wasn't sure. He was feeling very out of touch with other angels, but he liked it. He felt free.

"So if we ever got a dog, what would you want to name it?" Dean smiled at his angel and stole Castiel's carton of lo mein.

"Turner."

"Turner was the cop, Hooch was the dog."

"I like it," he stated and grabbed his carton back.


	20. Chapter 20

How many humans had seen an angel's wings? Surely it could have only been a handful. Though angels used to be much more prevalent among humankind, and it seemed to becoming that way again, how many angels had human friends? Friends who were more than just allies, more than just lust driven one night lovers. A hand that had held a lit firework could still count the number of these angels. It was only one.

They sat on the embankment of a small stream; Dean was skipping rocks across the water. It was a couple miles into the woods behind Bobby's house. He and Sam had found the creek when they were kids and spent a lot of time swimming in the surprisingly unpolluted water, trying to catch the little minnows hiding in still pockets in the banks, and trying to build rafts and adventure ala Huck Finn. Dean had rolled his jeans up and his feet were dangling in the cool water, Castiel just sat silently next to him.

"Do you think it's too cold to swim?" Dean asked as he finished his beer and set it near the rest of the left over's from the lunch they'd packed.

"I've never been swimming."

"Seriously? That's weird. Angel's have no fun. Come on, I'll show you."

"We don't, I agree."

He followed Dean's example of standing up. He loved the way his hunter's body looked as he stretched to take his shirt off. The fabric sliding over the smooth muscles Castiel had spent so many nights tracing with his fingers. He couldn't stop watching the other man strip down to his skin, he was breathtaking. Castiel had seen every wonder of the world, every perfectly sculpted statue, and masterpiece in the universe, but nothing compared to the stark naked hunter in front of him. His chest spattered with freckles, tanned skin looking buttery smooth in the warm sun, the V of his hips that Cas had spent so much time kissing.

"What are you staring at?" Dean looked down at his body self consciously and then back at the fully dressed angel. "Come on," he gently pulled on the angel's tie to bring him closer and kissed him. Castiel deepened the kiss, snaking his arms around Dean's waist. "Hey now, I'm trying to get into the water, not your pants…For once."

Castiel sighed and his hands slid down and gripped Dean's firm ass playfully, "Fine." He placed fierce kiss on his hunter before detaching and ridding himself of his clothes. "Aren't we supposed to have swim clothes?"

"Who says swim clothes?" Dean said as he walked into the water. "Come on, its warmer out here in where the sun is really shining. He clumsily jumped and ended up falling and going under the water. He came up with a big grin. Castiel slowly walked out to him. By now he'd taken plenty of showers, but he'd never submersed his body in water entirely. It felt good; it felt a little like being in heaven. The gentle force of the water flowing over his legs reminded him of the constant flow of grace in heaven, except this felt smooth and that felt stiff and starched. Dean was up to his chest, but his feet were still on the sandy bottom, the angel waded out looking a little unsure. Dean held out his hand. "You'll be okay, I promise." His hands dipped under the water and he picked Castiel up. He could do it on land, but in the water it was obviously a lot easier. Castiel giggled, he wrapped his arm around Dean's neck.

"It feels like I'm floating in the air."

"I could let you go, if you relax and stretch out you'll actually float."

Suddenly Cas was horrified and held fast to his human, "No!"

Dean smiled, "Don't worry, babe. I got you."

"Isn't this how people carry brides? Why do that do that?"

"I have no idea."

After a while Dean set him back on the sandy bottom, and walked out a little further. Castiel tried to follow him but was suddenly scared when he realized he soon wouldn't be able to touch the bottom with his feet anymore.

"Dean?" He brought out what Dean called "puppy dog eyes."

Dean came back over and put his hands on the angel's waist again, "To tread water all you have to do is gently move your feet back and forth and put your arms out like you were pretending to fly. You have to move them a little too, kind of in small circles or back and forth, it'll help you stay afloat. Now I'll hold onto while you try it." Castiel was scared, but he trusted the man with everything. He let him move them into deeper water, "Okay , Cas. Now do like I told you." It took a few minutes but he finally got it, Dean let go of him, and he stayed up on his own. The hunter grinned at his angel, "Look at you! Top of the class!"

"This is wonderful!"

Dean spent a while teaching the angel how to float on his back, and how to doggy paddle. The angel was really enjoying himself, and it made Dean's heart swell. The way Cas looked sparkling with beads of clear water, hair all mussed up and wet, smile spread across his face made other parts of Dean swell too.

After a while they retreated to the shallow water, watching little schools of shining fish dance in the gentle current, and splashing and dunking each other like teenage boys. Dean came up behind him, wrapping his arms around him and kissing his sun warmed shoulders.

"Cas?"

"Yes, my love?"

"Are you fully healed from the mermaid?"

"I am. Why?"

"When I found you, your wings were out. And it was raining," he paused, sorting through the memories and trying to find the right words. "The way the water dripped down them was perfect. They were so beautiful."

"You'd like to see them again, is what you're saying?"

Dean laughed; he was a straight forward guy with everyone except for Castiel. "Yeah, man."

Castiel pulled away and walked a few feet forward. He took a deep breath and held it, his eyes closed as he concentrated. Dean watched the skin on Castiel's shoulders twist sickeningly for a moment before his body seemed to be enveloped by a sparkling haze. It looked like a magic trick, but Dean knew it was real. The dark shape of wings unfolding was juxtaposed against the shining mist which seemed to fall away and roll over the water like smoke. The golden brown wings spread out, each one of them was as long as Castiel was tall. The tips of them dipped into the water. Castiel lifted them out, and Dean watched a bead of water roll off the feathers, it looked like pure gold in the sunlight.

"Holy hell…" he slowly moved towards them and reached out, "Can I touch them?"

"Yes." There was no hesitation in the angel's voice. He trusted Dean with everything. Dean reached out and ran his hand along the top arc of Castiel's left wing. The soft feathers felt like silk over the hard bone. It felt good to Cas, like someone was stroking his hair and scratching his scalp. He rolled his shoulders and the wings stretched and shone in the sun.

"Wow…" Dean ran a finger down across the bottom of his wing. It was razor sharp and a thin line of blood appeared on the finger. It was if a scalpel had cut him, it was so fine it didn't even hurt. "Whoa…"

"They are made not only for flight, but for battle."

"Angel's are fricken' cool," he said as continued to comb his fingers through Castiel's wings. "What does it feel like when I touch them?"

"Very odd. No one has ever touched them gently before. It kind of feels like you're running your hands through my hair. It makes my whole body shiver."

"I want some wings. In jet black."

"I like you human, angel's are dull."

"All of them except for you."

Castiel said nothing. Dean spent another fifteen minutes examining every inch, occasionally asking questions or mutter about how cool the wings were.

"Thank you, Cas. That was really awesome. You're so beautiful. And deadly. Like a cobra or a tiger or something," Dean said looking wistful.

Castiel laughed, "You're welcome, and thank you for that very Dean compliment."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he frowned.

"Nothing," Cas said kissing him on the cheek. The wings folded into his back and seemed to melt away.

"That is just so fucking cool," Dean muttered to himself under his breath as he walked towards their discarded clothes and began to dress.

"Thanks for teaching me how to swim."

"Thanks for letting me! Sammy was always positive I was going to let him drown, wouldn't let me teach him until he was taller than I was."

"Of course, I trust you with my life, Dean."

Dean stopped dressing; it was a heavy statement for the lighthearted mood. He stepped forward and quickly pulled the other man to him, kissing him passionately.

"I love you, Cas. I always have."

"and I you."

They smiled at each other and finished dressing and gathered their things and trekked back to Bobby's.

"I thought you guys said you were going fishing? Where are the fish you idgits?"

Author's note: So originally this WHOLE FIC was going to be just a silly little drabble one off about Dean trying to get Cas to sneak candy into the theater. 26K words, 20 chapters later, and I've still got a lot of story to tell. it's amazing haha. thank you all for the wonderful reviews and subscriptions. it means a lot to me! I hope you love it all so far.


	21. Chapter 21

He didn't want to believe it. He felt sick. He refused to believe it. This was harder to handle then deceiving the Winchesters into starting the apocalypse. Worse than letting Lucifer free. Worse than watching Dean struggle over the thought of losing his brother. Worse than the thought of letting Dean become a puppet for Michael.

Barham laughed, it was deep and sinister. "He'll leave you. It's been foretold by the prophets."

"They're wrong."

"Castiel, heaven's new golden boy, is questioning the word of God? That is blasphemy, brother." Barham's dark form circled Castiel. Uriel's twin was just as ruthless and apparently just as malicious. "You know as well as I what is going to happen. Little Sammy Winchester is going to give it up to our delightful big brother Lucy and old Dean-o is going to get all noble and let Michael take him for a ride. Maybe you could give him some pointers on what he likes."

"Barham," Castiel warned.

The other angel laughed, it made Castiel's skin crawl and his stomach slosh. "How long have you been with that ape? A human year and a half..How can he mean anything to you in that time? Did you fuck him before or after you dragged him out of hell? I think Ol' Lucifer had the right idea skinning the bastards."

"That is blasphemy, _brother._"

A hand slammed into Castiel's face. It was almost too fast to detect, but the impact left a trail of blood falling from his nose. Castiel didn't move an inch. "Don't mock me," Barham growled. "I am the 'smiter of resistance,' and you have been one damn resistant pain in our ass Castiel."

"Our?"

"You have forgotten all about your brethren, have you not? Should I remind you how close you are to falling?" Barham's vicious eyes were staring straight into his, his teeth were bared like a wolf's, Castiel just stared defiantly straight. "I don't think I have to. I think every time you sin with that _man_ you know exactly how close you are. Is that your goal, to become a martyr for _love_? Surely you are not that foolish to get wrapped up in that disgusting emotion."

"God loved humans."

"Look where that got him. God _is dead_, Castiel."

The last year had been hell on earth. Literally. With Lucifer free and the Winchesters trying to get him back into the cage, things had been a little more than tense. He and Dean spent more time the last few months fighting demons, fighting angels, fighting each other than they spent enjoying each other. He remembered the last good day they had together, the day in the creek. The way Dean's hands and lips explored him gently in the warm sun. The happiness radiating from the hunter. It had been a year of consistently downhill things since then. The little alone time they got consisted of furious fucks and fights about nothing. Dean was miserable, and so was Castiel. And both felt like they were the cause of each other's unhappiness. Neither of them could be gentle anymore, the 24/7 war they were fighting had leeched everything but anger out of them. Time was spent slamming each other into walls, screaming, and sneaking out before the other woke up. Both of them prayed for the other. They still loved each other more than words could ever express. But both had been broken beyond repair. The warriors' only reaction was to fight each other. The last words he'd heard out of Dean were "Maybe if I give myself to Michael I can end this, and you can go back to your life and I can go back to hell. You should have never dragged me out of there, Cas. Disrupted the balance and all that shit. You started this all, and now I have to finish it." He'd left the hunter in his pool of alcohol and desperation. Not that Castiel hadn't said more than a few choice words to Dean about his character and strength. He felt so very human, being dragged to that level of pettiness.

"That pathetic hunter, he doesn't even love you anymore Castiel. You've been blinded by your bond. He's using you to swing things in his favor. Don't sacrifice yourself for him, brother."

Barham laid a heavy hand on Castiel's shoulder. Castiel refused to let the words get to him. He was wrong, the prophets were wrong. Dean would never do that to him. Things hadn't been the best. They hadn't been in the same hemisphere as good. But Castiel refused to give up. They had done the impossible before.

"Aww, is that a flicker of hope in your eyes? I thought we had done our best to break you of that."

A fist struck Castiel again. He refused to let his face register the pain as his cheek bone shattered. It would be healed in a moment, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt like hell.

"Castiel. Heaven's little rebel child. How come you got a pass, Castiel and noble angels like Lucifer fell for less? Someone been sucking up to daddy?" He made a grotesque slurping noise.

"Maybe I'm the only angel with a soul left."

"And what a pretty little soul it is. So untainted by corruption. You stick out like a whore in a convent."

"I feel like that simile is a little backwards."

"YOU WILL OBEY OR YOU WILL FALL," Barham roared inches from Castiel's unflinching face. "You are not left with the luxury of options. There are very few of us left that are even willing to take you in, Castiel. Join us now, show that despicable human who is king now."

His fists clenched as the other angel insulted _his_ hunter.

"Is that your response? Really Castiel. You're going to doubt the prophets? They have never been wrong."

Castiel didn't say anything. Dean wouldn't leave him, and he would not leave Dean. They would this disgusting war and Castiel would willingly rip out his grace. He no longer wanted to be of this ilk. He would fall, and all would be well. They just had to hold out a little longer. He replayed the day at the creek and a thousand other perfect moments in his head to block out Barham.

The other angel cracked his knuckles. "Well brother, I am going to have to try a little harder to convince you. It's for your own good."

Every bone that broke, Castiel just pictured the hunters smile. Every slice in his flesh became a day dream about their future.

The prophets were wrong. The angels were wrong. Castiel's love could not be broken.


	22. Chapter 22

"FUCK YOU!"

"Dean, calm down," Castiel pleaded, Dean's fists clenched around his lapels slammed him back against the wall again, his head bounced off the old painted brick.

"You," he took a shaking breath before screaming at the top of his lungs, "LET HIM GO DOWN!"

"I got you out, I can get him out."

Dean slapped Castiel so hard the angel was knocked off balance and fell into the cheap bedside table. Dean shrunk back to sitting on the bed, seething with anger and hatred.

"Dean."

"Don't fucking talk to me."

Dean's heart was broken. His little brother. His only family left had just taken one for the whole team of the human race. Fallen down into the pit with Michael and Lucifer. He watched his brother fall. The one angel he trusted, the only person he trusted besides Sam, had let him go down. Or at least that's how Dean saw it. He had nothing left. He had no one left.

"Dean, please."

It wasn't supposed to be like this. He was supposed to save Sam and Dean. He'd only saved one, and by doing that he'd broken the other. It wasn't supposed to happen this way. He was supposed to ride off into the sunset in the impala with Dean and live happily ever after like all those movies they'd watched. He wanted to be Dean's hero. Instead he became Dean's villain.

He moved on shaky legs to the bed, "Dean, I can fix it."

"Not this time, Cas."

Dean's was shaking; Castiel leaned to press a kiss on the crook of his jaw behind his ear. "Please."

The hunter's reflexes were so fast if he hadn't been an angel, he would have seen the hand shooting up to wrap around his throat.

"Fuck you," he growled. He smashed a kiss into Castiel that was mostly teeth. They caught on Cas' lip and tore the thin skin. He lapped up the angel's blood and pushed him roughly into the bed. Castiel's hands reached to his hunter's hips, but the man jerked away, and growled, "Don't touch me." Dean sat on the angel's lap and roughly undid his belt, tearing it out from under him. He gathered up the angel's wrists and bound them with his own belt. "Don't fucking talk to me. Don't touch me. Don't look at me." He pulled on the belt as if to drive the point home. He harshly flipped Castiel over, his face smashed into the thin pillows. If he'd been human, Castiel wouldn't have bothered to move his head, just let himself get smothered. Dean pulled the angel's hips up, there was no gentleness left in him. He pushed the trenchcoat ends aside and ripped down Castiel's pants, they caught on his sharp hipbones at the odd angle. The fabric scratched at his skin. He moaned as Dean's calloused hands spread his legs. "Don't make a fucking sound."

The heat behind Castiel disappeared for a moment. He heard some rustling and it was back. A familiar cold slick worked his backside. He pushed into it, and bit his still bleeding lip to stifle a moan. Dean worked him open, he took his time but he wasn't exactly gentle about it. Castiel would be very sore without his grace. He'd rip it out in an instant if it would bring back his Dean. If things would be okay again, he would give up everything. The fingers disappeared and were soon replaced with Dean's painfully hard cock. He wasted no time; he just bucked into the angel as if the harder he slammed into him the easier the pain in his soul would get. Dean found Castiel's prostrate and hit it hard. The angel gasped but made no vocal noise, he didn't want to know the consequences for making a sound. They both came hard, Dean with a grunt that suspiciously like "Cas," but he wasn't going to say anything.

Dean pulled up the angel's pants, and eased him to sitting. He unwrapped the belt without looking at the angel's face.

"Dean," his voice was so low it was barely above an exhalation. Dean's eyes drifted to the cut on the angel's lip, Cas hadn't bothered to heal it. It was angry and bruised and wet still. It broke the hard look on Dean's face, a brief flash of anguish and anger flashed in his eyes. He looked into the impossibly colored blue eyes.

"I'm sorry," his voice broke and he turned away sharply and got up. He grabbed his bag and walked to the door. He stood in the threshold hesitating for a moment. Castiel prayed that he was changing his mind. "Don't find me. I don't want to fucking see you ever again." The voice was shaky.

Castiel just sat there trying to figure out what to do. The only thing left to do was go back to Heaven. Back to a nest of vipers and sin. What was human life without Dean? He would have given anything to have Dean walk back into the room. He heard the impala start and roar out of the hotel parking lot. His soul wept. He wept. Until his throat was raw and he couldn't cry anymore.

Tears stung Dean's eyes as he drove away. He loved Castiel, but he couldn't stand the sight of him. How could he ever forgive him? Castiel dragged him out of Hell just to ruin his life. He would do anything to trade places, to let Sam walk free. He drove for the crossroads, he drove for 20 hours straight. No demon would meet him. They saw him and smoked out. No one would see him. Where would he go now? Bobby would just remind him of Sam. He had no home. Cassie had gotten married last spring. He showed on Lisa's doorstep to get the door slammed in his face. He drove until he fell asleep at the wheel and crashed into a ditch.  
>This seems as good a place as any, he thought before lapsing back into unconsciousness.<p> 


	23. Chapter 23

He wiped the grease from his hands onto his jeans before turning to shake hands with the costumer getting a tour of the garage. He stopped cold when he saw the face. He'd never met Jimmy Novak's doppelganger, but damn did this guy come close. His mind instantly flashed to trailing his lips over the man's jaw line. His hair was blonde, and his eyes were brown but all the features were sculpted the same. He tried to not let the shock register on his face.

"Dean this is Castor, I'm sorry what is your last name?"

"Thrice," he said reaching out a hand to Dean who took it with faked confidence.

"Well Mr. Thrice, what can we do for you?"

"Cas here's got an older mustang that is in need of repair, I thought you'd be just the man to help him out," Dean's boss Carl Spot had a large smile, and a cigar clenched in his teeth. He turned back to Castor, "Dean here just finished rebuilding his precious '67 Chevy Impala in his off time. That's actually how he got his job here, we towed it and he asked if he could just pay to use our space and tools in his spare time to fix it up. I told him he could do it for free if he wanted a day job. Man's a genius with a wrench."

Dean rubbed the back of his neck, "Thanks, Boss. Uh, Mr. Thrice, would you like to show me your car?"

"Please, call me Cas," he said as he lead the way to the '65 Mustang. Dean let out a sad sigh, Cas. It was starting to rust around the wheel wells and along the edges of the hood. He popped open the hood, the engine needed a fair bit of work, but it was do-able.

"you talked to Mr. Spot about when you want this done?"

"Yeah, I'm giving him double whatever it costs to have you work exclusively on it."

"Excuse me?" Dean was flabbergasted, that was a lot of money. "Why?"

"Well this car means a lot to me. And I did drive by here a couple times and see the Impala in progress. I figure any man who can rebuild a body and an engine on an old piece of art like that is well worth my time and money," he tossed a wink at Dean. His smile looked just like Castiel's, he couldn't stop himself from blushing and looking away. His voice was smoother, it didn't have the same appeal but there was something about him that wouldn't let Dean just walk away. "So you just moved here a few months ago. I've heard all about you from my secretary who frequents that bar downtown. This handsome new mysterious mechanic that no woman can seem to bag, even though, as she puts it, 'he's a total ladies man.' Heck, even my wife mentioned you, said she saw you at the store."

"Yeah, I moved here about six months ago. What's your secretary's name?"

"Jenna, she's a pretty red head. Kinda tall and lean. Know her?"

Dean flipped through the names and faces in his head, "Oh yeah," he laughed, "She's uh, aggressive." She'd been pursuing Dean since he first came to town. He'd buy her a drink and talk to her, but as hard as she tried to get him to come home with her, he'd always decline. Dean hated to think he was being noticed, he just wanted to blend in, be normal. He'd rented a dingy studio apartment and got a job fixing cars. He'd work all day, and go home and cook himself a nice meal and meditate while he cleaned his guns. He'd been using his free time to learn to cook, he really enjoyed it. Crafting and experimenting. Mostly eating. After dinner he would space out and sort and clean his weaponry. Not that he had gone on a hunt since Sam fell, but he needed to know it was there.

"So Dean, can I get your number, I want to be able to check up on the progress."

"Well you can always call the shop, Mr. Thrice."

"No offense, but your office boy is dumber than a sack of hammers. I want to know from you _personally_ how it's all going."

Dean felt uncomfortable, but he obliged the man and wrote his number on the back of one of the shop's business cards.

"Thanks! Oh, and Dean," he put a hand on Dean's shoulder, who thought the other man was standing awfully close. It reminded him of…No he wouldn't think about it. "Call me, Cas." He winked and walked away. Dean couldn't stop himself from turning and watching the familiar looking man.

He finished his work for that day and went home. He crawled into the shower and turned the hot water as high as it would go. He thought maybe he could steam Castiel out of him. Maybe if he could get the man out of his system he'd stop dreaming about him, stop missing him. It hadn't worked so far, but it had to work eventually.

The next few days went without incident. He began working on Castor Thrice's '65 fastback, if he had a big project he could just zone out and not think about anything. He started with sanding down the body, getting rid of the rust. He'd get everything on the car done in a two weeks if all the parts came in on time since Thrice was paying for Dean to only work on his car. Friday came and before he could get into the shower, his phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hey Dean, It's Cas Thrice."

"Oh, hey Mr. Thrice. I just finished sanding down the car today, I'm gonna paint her when I go in Sunday."

"Great! That's actually not why I called though. I know this is kind of imposing, but the wife is being a major hassle, I was wondering if I could come over a while and escape. I'll bring beer?"

Dean sighed away from the phone, "Well I just got off work, so I kind wanted to shower and relax."

"Right, right. Well I'll be over in half hour, that give you enough time to shower? You live in the Birch Court apartments, right?"

"How'd you know that?"

"Small town. See you soon!" he hung up on Dean who stood there for a moment trying to figure out what had happened. He scrambled into the shower and scrubbed himself down quickly. He didn't think he'd taken a long time but he heard a knock on the door as he turned off the water.

"Shit. ONE SECOND!" he hastily pulled a towel around his waist and bounded to the door, checking the peephole just to make sure it was Castor. "Hey Castor."

The other man's eyes slid over Dean like a hungry wolf looking at a steak, "Hello, Dean." He purred. Dean shuttered and felt sick.

"I'll be right back, clothes and stuff. uh just take a seat anywhere."

"No need to get all dressed up for me, Dean." He sat down at the lonely table in the sparse apartment and watched Dean retreat quickly to the bathroom with some clothes in hand.

Dean pulled on some jeans and a tight black t-shirt that didn't smell. Well it smelled like engine grease, but everything Dean owned smelled like that by now. He couldn't get rid of the horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. He came out and saw Castor lying on his bed with a beer in his hand.

"Come lounge around with me, Dean!" he waved Dean over, who reluctantly walked over and sat on the edge of the bed drinking a beer he'd snatched on the way.

"So, wife problems? What happened?"

"I got married," Castor laughed out. Dean feigned a chuckle which abruptly stopped when he felt a hand gently move up his back. "I came by earlier, saw you working on the car. You certainly know how to make a jumpsuit look good."

"Castor, I don't think—"

Castor pulled him back onto the bed, his beer spilled over his chest and neck. Castor licked a stream dribbling down his neck, and up to his ear, gently nipping at the lobe. "Why else wouldn't you take a woman like Jenna home, hmm? I saw the look in your eyes when you saw me the first time."

"You're married," he protested weakly.

"Got an appearance to maintain. Come on, Dean," he whispered into Dean's ear. His skin prickled with goosebumps. At this volume his voice purred like Castiel's. Castor straddled Dean and kissed him hard and sloppy. He tasted like beer and smelled like cheap aftershave. The only thing he had in common with his angel was the looks, and even that wasn't the same at this distance.

_His angel._

It flashed in his mind like a neon sign.

He pushed Castor off and stood up.

"Stop. Get out of my apartment. I'll finish your car, but if you want an update you call the shop."

"Dean, come on, buddy."

"I'm not your fucking buddy," his voice was hard. "Get out."

Castor scrambled up and grabbed the rest of the beers and left.

Dean wanted another shower. The last night with Cas flashed in his mind and he was seized with regret and self loathing. He vomited into the sink. How could he do that to Cas? How could he say those things to his Castiel?

For the first time since he'd left Cas, for the first time since he'd watched Sam fall, he sat down on his bed and started praying.

"God, are you listening? Castiel said you were gone, but man, I need you to be there. I fucked up bad. I need Cas back. I'll do anything. Please, God. Please, Castiel. I'm sorry."


	24. Chapter 24

He prayed until he passed out. He prayed while he cooked breakfast. He prayed as he worked on vile Castor Thrice's car. He prayed every moment of his free time for three days. Castiel did not come, and he got no sign from God. He stopped praying. He finished Castor Thrice's car Friday. He was glad to be rid of the man. He looked like Cas, but he detestable. He hadn't stopped hitting on Dean. He hadn't stopped calling or creeping on Dean as he worked. Dean was this close to quitting his job and punching the man till he couldn't speak. It had been a week since the incident, Dean still felt disgusting. Every night he crawled into bed he'd look at the empty space beside him and get choked with tears.

"Okay, God. This is the last time. You didn't answer me all week, but I _need_ you to answer me. I need him. I need Castiel. I," he was wracked with a sudden fit of sobbing, "Man, I love that stupid angel. He's the only true friend I ever had. I could tell him anything, and he wouldn't judge, just accept it. I miss making fun of that stupid fucking trench coat. I miss the way he'd count my freckles. 1302, he said. I remember. I can't fucking forget. Please, God. Please, Castiel. I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry." He cried until he couldn't cry anymore. He was glad no one could see how soft he'd become. What happened to the emotionless warrior? The clichéd answer of "love changes people" flashed through his mind. The exhaustion from the tears finally pulled him under the veil of sleep.

He was dreaming, he had to be.

"Dean," the voice was low and distant. Someone was crawling into bed with him. Something smelled like sulfur and burning hair. He rolled to the sound, to the feeling. He put his arm around whatever it was. It was a dream, he was going to cherish it while it lasted, if Dream Cas was the only Castiel he could have, he was going to enjoy it. It was hot like a dish pulled from the oven, it was uncomfortable but he didn't care, even as a sweat broke on his brow from holding the hot thing close. It was rough, and gritty. He didn't care. He held it until the thick embrace of sleep blanketed him again.

The light streamed through the window, it was his day off so he hadn't bothered to set the alarm. He furrowed his brow and tried to blink away the sleep in the harsh light. Something smelled like sulfur, his instincts kicked in and he jumped out of bed grabbing the sheathed bowie knife under his pillow on the way. He couldn't believe his eyes, he must be dreaming still.

Castiel.

Castiel was in his bed.

He was singed and scorched and covered in soot and curled into the fetal position.

But there he was.

Castiel.

His angel.

The knife clattered on the ground.

The angel rolled over slowly, as if it required a lot of effort and grimacing like it hurt.

"Cas?" it was quite.

"Dean," the angel's voice was low and strained; there was a weak smile on his face. Dean launched himself on the bed, kissing the stained angel furiously. Castiel's body tensed in pain and he moaned.

"I'm sorry, fuck Cas, I am so sorry." He couldn't stop peppering kisses all over his angel. His angel. He was back. Castiel was back. Dean vowed to never lose sight of him again. "Cas, oh my god."

"Gentle, please. Dean, it's okay," the angel tried to wrap his arms around the man but it was too much effort. Dean sat back at the angel's warning and examined him, for the first time he noticed how bad he looked.

"Cas...where…What happened to you?"

"Hell," he winced and tried to situate himself in the bed more comfortably.

"Why the fuck were you in hell, Castiel?"

"I was getting your brother."

"Sam? You got Sammy out?" He grabbed the angel's shoulders, but quickly pulled back when the angel winced and breathed in sharply, "shit, sorry. Where's Sam?"

"He's in the hospital in the next town over. Admitted as a car crash victim. I couldn't…Dean I couldn't heal him as well as I should have."

"His soul? Can he walk? Will he be alright?"

"His soul is intact. It needed the most work. Getting there was actually pretty straightforward," he paused to catch his breath, talking took a lot of work in this state. "Getting out with Sam, while healing him. That's what took so long. It took fifty years in hell. I had to completely rebuild his soul. The essentials, they're still there. But there are things he won't remember, or recognize. But, he's there." Castiel stopped again to catch his breath, closing his eyes for a moment, trying to work through the pain. Dean gently held his hands.

"Holy fuck, Castiel. You're a god. You're incredible. I can't believe…Holy shit, dude."

"I'm not a god."

"You might as well be. Do you know if he's awake?"

"Coma."

"Uh, how bad of a coma? Real-life-years-of-recovery-never-the-same-avocado-brain coma, or Dr. Sexy-gonna-wake-up-a-okay coma?"

"Let me heal for a few days, Dean. I used up all my, as you call it, mojo. For the time being at least."

"But you can fix it? Is his body going to be okay?"

"I'm not sure how much I can do in that department. He was pulp, Dean. I rebuilt all I could."

"Shit," his eyes fell.

"He'll be okay. We'll find a way. His bones are all there, but mostly broken. Those mend."

"Yeah," he was quiet, he shook his head, "Shit, I'm sorry. You just went through Hell for me, again. I'm so fucking," he started crying again. "You're more than I deserve."

Castiel reached a soot covered arm and wiped a tear from Dean's cheek, leaving a little smug in its wake. "Dean Winchester, I would go through Hell for you as many times as I had too. Even if you're an insufferable prick sometimes."

Dean's jaw dropped in shock at the straight faced angel. They suddenly burst with laughter. Dean kissed the angel's cheeks and lips tenderly, tears falling and making little paths in the soot. "I'm sorry. I _am_ a prick. I love you. I've missed you so much. Castiel, I love you."

"I love you too."

"Cas?"

"Yeah?"

"You look like you crawled out of a fire pit."

"I did."

They both laughed for a minute or two before Dean got up and walked to Cas's side of the bed, and gingerly helped him sit up. He slowly undressed the angel, and picked him up in his arms. He was a little heavy, but nothing he couldn't handle. He brought the angel into the small bathroom and set him down on the lidded toilet like he was setting down a priceless artifact. Dean undressed and turned on the water, he helped Cas stand and walk into the warm shower. Castiel stood on shaky legs with his hands on Dean's shoulders to keep him steady. Dean washed the black soot from the angel until he shown. The shower was filthy, but the angel was clean. Dean helped him back out and set him back on the toilet. He got a towel for both of them and gently combed Cas's hair so it wouldn't dry in tangles. He had burn and bite marks all over his body, Dean got the gauze and antibiotic ointment and set to work patching up his angel. He knew they would heal by tomorrow, but he wanted to take care of Cas. He wanted to give Castiel what he deserved. Not a word was said through this whole process. He picked Castiel up again and set him at the kitchen table, he made his lover an omlette and toast with raspberry jam, just the way Cas liked it. While the angel ate slowly, he put fresh sheets on the bed and went downstairs to put Cas's clothes and the soiled sheets into the laundry. He helped Castiel into the new bed and crawled in next to him.

"I love you."

"I love you, too."


	25. Chapter 25

Angel's don't dream. When Castiel slept it was more like deep meditation, he would blank his mind and focus on the sounds and feelings in his vessel. He could hear his heart beat, and the blood flush through his ventricles and into his arteries. Suddenly the blackness that seemed to hum with his bodily energy began to fade into a white room.

"Castiel," a deep voice called sing-songingly, "Oh, Castiel…"

The room faded into focus, a dark figure leaned against the wall, and Castiel found himself seated in a chair in the center of the room.

"Barham," he noted with displeasure.

"Hello, Castiel. So nice to see you after your little suicide mission."

Castiel didn't say anything, Barham began pacing around the room in front of him.

"We gave you a second chance, Castiel. We took you back in after you defied us. And what do you do? Defy us again."

"Well, heaven is pretty boring now with the only rule being complete and total submission. If you haven't noticed, that's not really my thing."

"Rapheal and Sammael are not happy with you."

"So they send their newest bitch boy after me?"

Before Castiel could blink there was a hand around this throat picking him up off the floor.

"You will obey the Kings of Heaven or you will pay," Barham threatened.

"Or what?" Castiel rasped out. Barham dropped the other angel who gracefully landed on his feet. He still felt weak, even in this dreamstate.

"Well you should be grateful to your kings, they're giving you have two options."

"Oh goody." After two years around the Winchesters, he was finally picking up sarcasm.

"You serve us, but never leave heaven again. Or you surrender your grace. Willingly. Today. Right now."

Castiel didn't hesitate, "I need to heal Sam first, then you can have my grace."

"That's not the deal, Castiel. If you try to teleport there right now, Sam and Dean will both be dead before you can do anything about it. We have people watching them," he laughed maliciously, it echoed off the walls as he circled Cas, "But if you say you will serve us, I will not only let you heal Sam, but I will help you and he'll be like new."

"What about Dean?"

"What about Ol' Dean-o, Cas? I'm giving you more than a traitor like you deserves anyways."

"Can I watch over him? Could I erase his memory of me?"

"Don't be naive, Castiel. You won't have time for Dean, besides why do you care what a human feels?" He circled like a hawk, "Time's running out, little brother." Barham tapped a thick watch on this wrist, "They're all waiting for my command to strike."

Castiel knew the answer, he knew he could not bargain or fight his way out of this one.

"Take it."

Barham sighed, "What a waste of a soldier."

The last thing Castiel saw was Barham reaching a hand out. Everything faded to black again but this time instead of the soothing sounds of his heartbeat his ears pounded like they were next to a waterfall. It felt like nails were ripping through his body. He felt like he was spinning and his eyes weren't even open.

Then all at once it stopped.

He could hear the soft sounds of Dean in bed next to him; he could feel the warm blankets around him, his body felt heavy and sleepy. He tried to tap into his grace. He couldn't. He heard nothing but the sounds of the world around him. He could only see what his eyes allowed. He could only feel what his skin touched. He sat up and tried to unfurl his wings. Nothing happened. He reached between his shoulders, only to feel two scars where they would have sprouted from. A car backfired outside and Castiel jumped at the noise. A human reflex. It felt so…Real. He smiled. He looked at the man next to him and smiled again. He looked at the clock, it read 4:37am. They were supposed to see Sam in the morning. His body felt tired and weak. He laid back in bed and let sleep, real sleep overtake him. He dreamt of fishing with Dean.

He awoke to a clatter coming from the direction of the kitchen.

"Shit," Dean said in hushed tones and looked nervously at Castiel in the bed, his face fell when he saw he'd awoken him. "Aww, man. Sorry, Cas. I was going to make you breakfast in bed."

Castiel smiled, "It's alright. Good morning, my love." He got out of bed. For the first time he noticed how the old wooden floors felt on his bare feet. They were cool and hard, but still somehow unlike stepping upon stone. He circled his arms around the waist of his boyfriend at the stove frying some eggs. "What's for breakfast," he mumbled into his neck.

"Steak and eggs! It's a thank you present, for getting Sammy outta hell in mostly one piece and forgiving me for being an asshat."

"Sounds delicious, I'll set the table."

Castiel got the plates and utensils out, and set them at the small table like he'd seen in restaurants and on the television. He poured them both a glass of juice and mugs of coffee and set them next their respective plates. Dean pulled the already grilled steaks out of the oven where they were being kept warm, and added the eggs to each plate. They both sat down and smiled at the homey, delicious sight.

"Dig in!"

Everything tasted so good to Castiel. He could taste before, but he could never appreciate the full flavor and texture of foods before when his mind was so preoccupied with other senses. He let out an appreciative groan.

"I'm guessing you like it?"

"It's spectacular. I'm glad you learned how to cook. Maybe I should take work holidays more often," he laughed and Dean smiled widely at him. They both consumed their food with the ravenous hunger of men in the morning in silence for a while. "Dean, I have to tell you something."

"You don't actually like it? Is it about Sammy?" His face was streaked with worry, Castiel noticed steak sauce on the corner of his mouth and reached over with a napkin to wipe at it, Dean shooed him away. "You can't say something like that and then wipe my face, dude."

"I love it, and it's kind of about Sammy."

"Oh." Dean set his fork and knife down, suddenly losing his appetite.

"The angels came to me last night. They gave me a choice. Willingly surrender my grace and become human, or serve them completely and never leave Heaven again."

"Shit…What are you going to tell them?" Dean's voice and face were unreadable, too many emotions at once.

"I asked them if I could heal Sam before I made a choice. It wasn't an option. Dean…"

"Cas, what did you do?"

"I surrendered my grace."

"When will they take it?"

"They already have."

Dean slammed his fists down on the table making everything on it, including Cas jump, "You just let them take everything from you?" he yelled.

"They were going to take you and Sam if I defied them, Dean! They would let me heal him, but they wouldn't let me erase me from you. And I don't even think they were telling the truth about letting me at Sam. Dean, I had no choice."

Dean was silent.

"I tried. I said one last spell for Sam while Barham was behind me. I willed some of my grace to him before it was taken. If we're lucky, it brought him out of his coma."

"You risked your life, and gave up a nearly immortal life for Sammy and I? Are you stupid?" He sounded mad, but Castiel could see in his eyes he was confused.

"Dean Winchester. I told you that I began watching you to understand human life's essence. I watched you for years with no answer. And then, I fell in love with you. And I learned why love was so sacred to God. I would rather live a life with you, I rather get sick and get hurt and have actual needs, then to live a life without you in a broken paradise."

"This is such a chickflick moment. I don't care," he pushed out his chair and stood up and walked over to Castiel and held him. "I love you, even if you probably just made a huge mistake. I'm really fucking happy you did. But we will never discuss this mushy moment again. Not even Sam can know."

Castiel laughed, holding Dean felt even better now than it did before, "Okay. I promise." He leaned to kiss Dean and gently licked at the errant steak sauce on the side of his mouth. Dean blushed and hugged Cas again.

"Now, what to do about Sammy?"


	26. Chapter 26

"Samuel Brooksmith. Room 217," the pretty blonde receptionist read and smiled coyly at Dean who threw her a wink and thanked her. Castiel made a sure she was watching as he snaked a hand into the back pocket of Dean's jeans as they walked away.

"Remember, he might not remember or like the same things. He's still Sam overall, but the details are a little different. I don't even know if he's awake or what condition he's in physically."

"I know, Cas," Dean snapped. Castiel couldn't blame him for being tense. Dean held his hand tightly, and Cas gently stroked his thumb over the back of it as they approached the room. They were stopped by a doctor coming out.

"You are?" He looked friendly buy insurmountably average.

"Family. I'm Dean Brooksmith, Sammy's brother. And this is Cas Novak."

Castiel felt a bit uncomfortable using Novak, but it wasn't the place to discuss pseudonyms.

"Oh good!" He looked a little oddly at the pair of hands and but said nothing, "Sammy has made a miraculous recovery, we—"

"Only I get to call him, Sammy," Dean interjected.

"Oh, uh, sorry. But uh, as I was saying. He woke up yesterday morning from his coma. He was minimally responsive and his brain was still quite swollen, we expected permanent damage. But aside from a little memory loss, he seems absolutely fine!" He reached into a file to pull out some MRI films and held them up to the light, "On the left is two days ago, the right is today. It's just incredible."

"That's us Brooksmiths," Dean said under his breath. Castiel squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"How is he physically?"

"Yes, well unfortunately no miracles there. He'll be lucky to walk again without a cane or crutch. His hips and pelvis were crushed, as well as both femurs."

Dean winced, he felt sick. He gripped Cas' hand tighter.

"The good news is, his pelvis is repairable, and his femurs should heal enough in a few months to replace his hips."

"He needs a hip replacement? Is this a fucking joke? He's not even thirty!"

"Dean, relax."

The doctor looked a little nervously at the fuming man and then quickly to Castiel for reassurance to continue who nodded slightly.

"Your hip joint fits together kind of like a nut and wrench," the doctor tried to explain, he held up one cupped hand and put a clenched fist in it, "It's a ball and socket type deal. What happened to Sammy—I mean Sam, is that the ball part shattered, and took most of the cartilage and connective tissues with it. I've had a team of different orthopedic surgeons and specialists take a look at the x-rays and at his overall health, and it's been agreed that once his femurs and pelvis heal we'll be able to replace the hips without the possibility of the femurs collapsing when he starts walking again. You're lucky your brother took all his vitamins!" he laughed nervously. Dean silently thanked Sam's health obsession.

"How long till his funny bones heal?"

"Femurs. And his pelvis. And I'd say six months is average, it might be a little more because the amount of healing that has to be done."

"What about the hip replacement, how long is that going to put him out of commission?"

"Actually the healing time for that is usually six weeks or less. But I'd say with all the injuries it could be a full year before he's back to normal. Or about normal as he's going to be. Does he have anyone at home to care for him?"

"We're it," Dean said tightly. "Thank you, doctor. I'd like to see him now." He pushed past the doctor, Castiel muttered a thank you and pat the man on the shoulder as he was dragged along. He couldn't help but feel guilty for not healing Sam better. He felt bad for Dean too, who was now holding Sam so tight it looked like he couldn't breathe.

"Dean, you're going to break my ribs," he gasped.

"If you ever fall into a pit with Satan and a rouge arc angel again, I am going to pull you out of Hell myself just to punch you all the way back there."

Castiel stifled a laugh, Winchester logic.

"I'll try to remember that."

"Good."

Castiel pulled a chair up to the side of the bed so he could sit with them.

"Cas, good to see you! Do you know how I got here?"

"I took you out of Hell. I apologize for the incomplete healing. I did the best I could. I used the last of my powers to will you some grace to wake you from your coma. I wasn't sure if it had worked or not."

"Wow. Do you just have a thing for raising Winchesters out of hell?"

"Only the ones I like."

Dean smiled at his angel, who was no longer an angel.

"Wait did you say 'last of your powers?'"

"Cas fell."

The room was silent.

"I chose to. You are my family."

Dean took his hand and kissed it.

"Wait, are you guys…together?"

"You know that, dumbass."

"Dean, memory loss," Castiel reminded.

"Oh, yeah. Uh we've been together for like two years. Well. There was a brief separation when I got all dickish about you going to hell and Caswas nice enough to take my douchey ass back."

"Cas you're a saint, not an angel," Sam laughed.

"He's perfect," Dean smiled and Castiel blushed. "So do you know the game plan for your broke ass?"

"They're going to repair my pelvis with surgery Friday. But they said I could heal at home after the worst of the incisions close up. Do we have a place around here? Where are we anyways?"

"Kansas. And I have a little place the next town over. Cas and I will look for something bigger, I have some money stashed. You just focus on healing or whatever it is people with broken bones do."

"Will do. Now go away, the fun pain killers are starting to kick in and I want to nap."

They all laughed and said their goodbyes. Dean shut the door of the room quietly behind them. He wrapped his arms around Castiel's neck. Cas just held him. He could feel small wet spots from Dean's tears. He just held tighter.

"Thank you so much, Cas. You brought back my brother. You came back. We can do this. We can take care of Sammy. We can be a family for a while. For real."

Castiel kissed his neck gently, refusing to let go, "We will do it, Dean."


	27. Chapter 27

The soft snoring sounds coming from the bed were oddly reassuring in the dark, even though Dean was sleepless with worry. He'd finished counting his hidden stash of cash. It had only come to $2867. He hadn't been able to save much at his new job, between rent and groceries he was breaking even, and before he had Cas and Sam to worry about it had been alright. Now he had a feeling of misery deep in his stomach. He took another drink of his whisky and opened his laptop and began clicking away, trying to find someplace they could afford. Without stairs for Sam. Maybe close enough so Dean could walk to work and not have to waste the gas, since surely Sammy was going to need to be driven to and from doctor's appointments. Medication. Physical therapy. How were they going to do it? How was he going to provide for his family? He emptied his glass and poured another. He opened Craigstlist and scoured the renting listings. There was one bedroom house, two bathrooms, a full kitchen, with a finished basement and a garage. He did a quick calculation on the utilities and rent. With everything it'd come to about $1200 every month. That wasn't including Sam's medical bills or groceries, or gas. He and Cas could have the basement and bathroom down there, Sam could have the upstairs. It was only a couple of miles from the garage, so he could walk to work. Maybe he could teach Cas how to drive so he could take care of Sammy, and Dean could get another job. He clicked through the job listings and nothing looked solid or in his field. If only money could be made in hunting monsters, he sighed. A thought occurred to him, he tried to banish it from his mind with another sip of his drink and looking at more job ads, but it wouldn't leave. Maybe…

He opened the personals section, and began typing. "Handsome, blonde, early thirties. Firefighter. Let me show you a good time. Though, I'm not a cheap date." He attached a picture of himself. There was money to be made in selling yourself, he knew that well. He wasn't sure how far he'd go to get the big bucks though. He put a handy man ad up too, if he had some legitimate side work, maybe Sammy and Cas wouldn't question him.

Cas.

He looked towards the bed. With the ads posted and his drink finished and not being able to call on the house until morning, he decided to crawl in next to Cas.  
>He snuggled up close, breathing in his scent. Olive oil, fresh clothes, and the earth after rain. He thought it odd, but he loved it too much to question it. It was comforting and familiar. He let the whisky and the intoxicating feeling of comfort pull him into sleep.<p>

"Yeah, I'll let him know. Okay, Sam. See you tomorrow." Castiel whispered and hung up the phone. He hadn't wanted to wake Dean, but when he crawled back in bed he saw the green eyes staring at him. "Sam called, he doesn't want us to come in for the surgery. But he said tomorrow we can come if we want. I told him we'd be in after you got off work."

"Thanks, babe." He nuzzled Cas. He remembered last night. He wondered how many responses he'd gotten. "I took today off, thinking we were gonna see him though. But I was thinking, I should teach you how to drive."

Castiel smiled, "But I already know how to drive, Dean." He relished in the surprised look on his boyfriend's face.

"Since when?" Dean asked suspiciously.

"Since cars were invented. Angels learn skills very easily. We can just tap into your souls and learn them directly from the source."

"When did you last update your drivers manual?"

"When I took you out of hell."

"Did you…?"

"Take your knowledge of driving? Yeah."

"That's a little invasive, I don't know how I feel about that. But okay. Uh, why don't you go take a shower and get dressed and we'll go down to the DMV and get you a license. I had Bobby falsify you some social security cards and shit a while ago."

"How thoughtful," Castiel laughed getting out of bed and stripping on his way to the bathroom. After the door had shut and he heard the water start, Dean bolted to the computer. 15 new emails. 7 about the handy man ad, and 8 about the personal ad. He replied to the handy man emails with some hourly rates of $10 for just fix it work, $15 for roofing. The personal ads he replied to more coyly, asking what their plan for the date was. He figured he'd charge $50 per date. If they wanted him to go home with him, well that he had to figure out still. He heard the shower turn off, he quickly shut the laptop and popped in some toast and turned on the coffee maker. He leaned against the counter waiting for the toast, the bathroom door opened and Castiel walked naked across the kitchen do the bed area. Dean's jaw dropped as he watched the perfectly firm body stride proudly in front of him. The way the water was still beading down his chest and on the perfectly trimmed course hair between his legs displaying his half hard cock. The way his round ass flexed when he walked and bent down to pick up a shirt had Dean practically drooling. Castiel smiled ruefully when he felt the hands grab his hips and draw them back into Dean's. He could feel the hardness pressed against his ass through Dean's boxers.

"Mmm, hello," his gravelly voice crooned.

"You're doing this on purpose," Dean whispered as he bit at Cas's neck, sucking up drops of water left on him.

"Maybe." his hand slid back and rubbed Dean through his boxers, Dean moaned out still attached to his neck. He turned Castiel around and kissed him deeply as he guided them back to the bed. He needed this, it had been so long. He needed to feel Cas, to see him laid out before him. Castiel needed it too. He wanted to feel this now that he was fully human. He kissed Dean with urgency and continued palming his cock through the thin fabric. Dean laid him down on the bed and kissed down his chest, lapping at the drops that still hadn't fallen. He scrapped his stubbled jaw over a nipple, earning a hiss from his lover, he soothed it with his tongue. Castiel's fingers were entwined with Dean's, who was busy placing bites and scraping with his perfect jaw over his sensitive skin and then teasing with his soft lips and smooth tongue. The sensations were driving Cas mad. Dean nuzzled into the hair at the base of Castiel's cock, it smelled intoxicating. He licked up the hard shaft slowly. Castiel bucked into the warmth when Dean's mouth engulfed his head. Dean took it like an expert and let Cas fuck his mouth gently for a few moments before he pulled off while hallowing out his cheeks, earning a wet pop and a moan from Cas. He stood up and shed his boxers. He looked at the fallen angel who's eyes were dark with lust, who was definitely going to need another shower by the time they were done, and he could hardly believe how lucky he was. He grabbed the lube and stroked his own hardness while he worked Castiel open. They were both so close already by the time Dean pushed his thick cock into his lover. Castiel wrapped his legs around Dean's back, heels pressing into his ass. He'd propped himself on some pillows and his hand reached to Deans neck and roughly pulled him down to kiss him as Dean started thrusting. The angle was perfect and Dean's dick slid over his prostate. He moaned into the hot mouth and bit at the hunter's lower lip. Castiel's nails were pressing hard into Dean's neck, and he could taste blood on his mouth where Cas had bit him. They needed each other this much, they needed to taste and consume every inch of their lover.

"Dean," he moaned low and long.

"Come for me, Castiel."

He loved the way Dean said his full name during sex. It sounded delightfully dirty, like a prayer and a curse at the same time. He kissed Dean deeply has his body shook and spasmed with release, moaning into the hunter's panting mouth. Dean came soon after. He gently kissed Castiel on the mouth after he finished and crawled next to him and laid his head on Cas's chest.

"You are perfect."

Castiel stroked his hair, "I'm glad you think so, Dean. I think we need another shower, my love." They were covered in Castiel's release.

"Yeah probably," Dean sighed. "No funny business this time, featherbrain."

Castiel laughed and they got up and got ready for real this time.

Dean drove him to the DMV and sat while Castiel took his driver's test. He was a little worried about the impala, but he knew Cas wouldn't have lied. His mind drifted to the emails, how many of those people wanted Dean to go home with them? How far would he go to provide for his Castiel and his Sammy? He watched the smiling Cas come back through the door and give him a thumbs up. He laughed at how geeky and adorable he looked at the same time. But his stomach felt sick. He knew he'd do anything to keep those two comfortable. Even if it meant giving himself up.


	28. Chapter 28

"Dean, can I get a little help here?" Castiel helped Sam sit on the edge of his wheelchair, Dean swooped over and helped Cas move him into his bed. Sam winced as they positioned him. His healing incisions itched and he was sore all over, but he'd wanted to go outside for awhile and Cas had obliged him. Sam had been home for a few weeks, and was healing quickly, but it had taken its toll on everyone. Getting him into the chair was a lot easier than getting him out, and Cas was going to take the chance to get Dean's help while he was home before zipping off to another job.

"Got everything you need, Sammy? Want me to pick anything up on the way home from work tonight?"

"A new body?"

"Yeah, I'm gonna get one less gigantic. Moving you is a pain in the ass, I don't know how Cas does it all day."

Dean walked out to the kitchen and Castiel followed him and caught his hand and pulled him back into a kiss.

"I miss you," he said quietly between gentle smooches.

"I know, I'm sorry, babe. I miss you too." He was having trouble look Cas in the eyes.

"Can't you take the weekend off? Dean we never see you. Handy man jobs before work, work, more handy man jobs. You come home to shower and sleep and that's it. You don't even sleep. You just sit up and clean the guns and check the salt lines over and over." He reached up to turn the man's face to him, "Dean, I can get a job. I'm not some helpless baby in a trenchcoat. I have skills. I have knowledge. I'm not your burden, I'm your partner. Sam will be well enough to take care of himself. Why won't you fucking look at me?"

"I'm going to be late for work, I just came back to grab some tools I need for a job tonight."

He pulled away and left Castiel standing in the kitchen silently fuming. He went back to Sam's room to play xbox and scheme.

Dean checked the trunk and made sure his date clothes were there. He'd have to wash up at work again, but he should be fine. The customers didn't seem to mind the faint smell of engine grease. So far he'd been on a date almost every night for two weeks. Escort, was the term he used. A few of them were just lonely older women. One was a woman who just needed to make an impression on her boss at a dinner function. Tonight, this guy was a repeater. Dean didn't like him, but money was money. He'd taken Dean out once before, he'd wanted a blowjob before Dean left. And for an extra $50, he gave it to him. He was repulsive, pudgy with bad hygiene. A disgustingly gaudy watch whose metal band kept pinching Dean's hair as the man forced him down on the minuscule dick. The man wanted more this time, and he knew it. With bills to pay, he didn't have the option to deny the man.

Work went quickly, at least at his job at the garage he was doing things he liked. Fixing cars. He could speak their language, and understand their workings. His mornings were spent repairing fences and cabinets and pipes, dull monotone jobs with housewives and househusbands hovering over him. His nights spent sweet talking people and pretending to care for money. But at least during the day he could breathe in the scent of grease and oil and listen to the music of metallic workings and purring engines. By the time he got home, Sam was asleep or too absorbed in a book to be of much company, and Cas was asleep, tired from helping Sam and fixing up the house all day. He couldn't sleep, he was filled with too much guilt. He'd clean the guns, it was the closest thing he could get to cars. If the night was nice he'd go out and work on the impala in the garage. Sometime around two or three in the morning he'd crawl into bed with Castiel and sleep for two or three hours and start again. He looked worn out, he felt it. But he couldn't stop. The pile of bills on the table wasn't getting smaller.

The clock read closing time, he went to change and scrub his hands and face clean in the employee bathroom and duck out before he had to answer any questions from his boss. The client, Clark Grant wanted Dean to come to his house tonight. It was a nice house, but he could see through the window that it was a mess. When the door opened the faint smell of body odor and rotten food wafted out.

"Dan," The man leered with a crooked toothed mouth. Dean had been using the pseudonym Dan Steele. If anyone caught the Steely Dan reference, they hadn't said so.

"Hey you," he said in a false purr, "What are the plans for the evening?"

"Drinks, and I thought you would provide the entertainment, and then we'd have some fun."

"What kind of fun and games are we talking? I want to be paid up front, Clark."

"I want you to do a strip tease for me. And then you're going to fuck me," he leaned close to Dean and whispered in his ear, "Hard." Dean could smell his acrid breath.

"$500."

"That's ridiculous!"

"Then I'll just be on my way."

"No, fine. You better be worth your price, boy." He handed dean a wad of bills from his pocket.

Dean blocked out his mind for the rest of the night. Trying to focus on the nice things he could get for Sammy and Cas if they came ahead this month. As soon as they both had finished he disappeared to the bathroom to vomit and scrub his hands and face clean and discard the condom. The greasy man was still stretched out on the bed giving him a wolfy grin when he exited. He dressed and left without a word.

Castiel sat on the kitchen floor. His phone shattered on the floor from an impact door leading to the garage. The door opened, but Dean stepped through it tentatively after seeing the mess.

"Cas?" He asked to the darkness, "Cas what happened?" he leaned down to the man, taking the tear streaked face in his hands.

"Why don't you check your phone?" he hiss. Dean's heart fell into the pit of his stomach, he already knew. In the outgoing messages to Cas was a picture of Dean, naked and walking into the bathroom. Clark. That fucking slimy bastard. This wasn't worth five hundred dollars. This wasn't worth a million.

"Cas, it's not what you think."

Castiel slapped him hard enough that Dean fell from his crouch and was sitting on the floor too, stunned. "Really Dean, than what the fuck is it? I'm pretty sure that's your second goddamn strike. That's not you? Because I can pretty clearly see my fucking handprint on your shoulder. Do you think I'm fucking stupid, Dean?" his voice was like razors dipped in lemon juice slicing into Dean.

Dean pulled the wad of cash out of his pocket and threw it on the floor. He didn't know what to say.

"What the hell is that?"

"It's what I cost, apparently."

"Dean?" His voice was low, curious, rough with tears, "What are you talking about?"

"We got bills to pay, Castiel. Sam's medical shit, rent, utilities. I had to do something."

"Please, please, please, god no, no. Dean, no." he pleaded, his voice cracked. "You've been…S-selling yourself?"

Dean just looked Castiel, he'd begun crying when Cas had started begging. He couldn't speak.

"How many people have paid to have you?" Castiel looked at the money on the floor.

"One, just one. The rest just paid me to go out with them."

"I'm going to fucking kill whoever you slept with."

"He's a goddamn scumbag, I wish we could."

"I can't fucking believe you, Dean. Why would you do this to yourself?"

"I have to keep you and Sammy safe."

"You do not get to punish yourself and write it off as helping us. Did you really think this would help?"

"We need the money."

"I can work, Dean."

"Doing what, Cas?" He snapped.

"Well your brother and I have been spending the day falsifying diplomas and records. Legally, I'm a teacher now. Well not so legally."

Dean didn't say anything, he just looked at the floor.

"Dean, you have to stop fucking doing this kind of stuff. I meant what I said, this is a second strike."

"I know. Cas, I wouldn't even blame you if you left."

"Fuck you, Dean. Do you think I gave up everything just to leave you when things got bad? Lucky for you I'm going to let you earn it back. I can't fucking believe you sometimes, Dean."

They just sat in silence for a few minutes in the dark kitchen.

"Did you at least use a condom?"

"Of course I did. I'm dumb, not wreckless."

"Was it good?"

"No. it was vile. I threw up afterwards. I don't know if it was him, or the guilt." He moved closer to Castiel, and took his hand. "I'm sorry."

"I know."

"Are we okay?"

"I'm still really fucking pissed and frustrated with you. But we will be."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

They sat in silence for a while, holding hands.

"So, a teacher, huh?"

"yep."

"Mr. Novack, I deserve one long detention."

"I went with Winchester. And you do."

"You…Took my last name?"

"We're partners, are we not?"

"Yeah, I just—I didn't think—does this mean we're married?"

"Considering what you just did, I think the wedding would be postponed for a while."

"Cas?"

"Yeah, jerkface?"

Dean laughed a little, "I was just trying to give you the best I could."

"I know. It's why I'm going to forgive you. I just can't right now."

"I understand."

"Come on," he stood up and pulled Dean with him. "You smell like him. Shower, and then bed. I better get one hell of a wake up blowjob and breakfast in bed, Mr. Winchester."

"Yes, sir."

He smiled as Cas pulled him downstairs and into the bathroom. It would be okay.


	29. Chapter 29

"Is this about the bacon?"

"No this is not about the bacon, Sammy," Dean sighed, "Although, I have you know it's rude as shit to eat the last of the bacon that I specifically set aside for myself for a bacon cheeseburger tonight. I'm the one literally bringing home the bacon."

"Is this about running for PTA president?" Castiel and Sam dissolved into a fit of giggled, "We don't even have kids, Dean!" more laughter. Dean stomped his foot. He'd had a long day at work and he called a family meeting to sort out the money problems.

"Goddammit, you guys suck. I was better off hooking than I am talking to you assholes." He crossed his arms and frowned.

"Aww, don't be mad, lover. We're paying attention now." Castiel tried to stifle a smile while he elbowed Sam to be nice.

Dean glared at them for a moment longer, "fine. With all of Sam's medical bills, and the estimate for the hip replacement, considering we don't get caught in insurance fraud before then, the total comes to about $10,000," he pointed at Castiel, "Next time you angel mojo my idiot brother into the hospital, make sure he has a stolen ID and insurance card with more coverage."

"Won't happen again, Dean." He said with a smirk. Dean would have gotten mad if he didn't look so irresistible in worn jeans and one of Dean's t-shirts, comfy and giggling on the couch.

"Cas, you really can't work until Sammy gets his hips done, which is another three months at least. Someone's got to take care of him, and you could use the time to get some actual teaching skills or something. I'll buy you a text book or something."

"That's very thoughtful," he sounded sincere.

"Sam, can you start like, I don't know. Making websites, or gambling online, or something. We gotta bring in some more money. The fix it jobs are barely covering the grocery bill, my job at the garage all goes to rent. We need to have a buffer."

"Holy shit, when did Dean become a responsible adult?" Sam half mocked, he was also fairly astonished. Dean had always been so fond of scraping by on the road. Said it made him feel alive.

"Since I grew up and realized you two are the only family I have left, so I got to take care of you."

Sam and Cas were silent, Castiel wanted to bring up the fact about being partners and sharing the burden to Dean again, but he had a feeling it would just bounce right off Dean's thick and stubborn skull. Finally Sam spoke, "Does this mean you're done hunting? Permanently?"

Dean had been dreading that question, "I don't know, Sammy." It was the truth. "At least until you're fully healed."

Castiel had been silent, lost in thought while the brothers spoke, "That sleaze bag who bought you, you said he was an investment banker, right?"

"Yeah, had a lot of money, he liked to flaunt it in front of me. Had this disgusting gold watch. And probably quadruple in his pocket what he actually paid me that night. Why?"

"Do you think he has a safe with cash in it? I mean he carries that as pocket money to be impressive, but he seems like the kind of glutton to hoard his money in cash, rather than the more safe option of bank accounts."

"Castiel, what are you thinking?" Dean asked wearily.

"Your innumerable hunting talents could be used for a little pay back," he grinned maliciously. Dean smirked with pride at his fallen angel. Sam's mind jumped at planning a heist. They set to work hacking, scheming, and laughing. Cas giddy with payback on the disgusting man, Sam excited about something to do, and Dean hopeful that this would solve their money problems for a while.

Castiel and Dean staked out Clark Grant's house down the street in the impala. Dean was sure the man was probably already hiring someone else to get off. They got lucky when he jumped in his Cadillac and left, they hadn't expected that.

"Dean, take the chance, go." Castiel urged, he shoved a walkie-talkie in Dean's pocket and booted him out of the door, Cas stayed to keep watch.

He snuck up to the reeking house. The cul-de-sac where he lived seemed pretty quiet, the houses all empty and dark, though it was pretty late for suburbia. He made quick work of the lock, and said a silent thanks that the Neanderthal of a man hadn't installed a security system. He shuffled through the trash to check under the paintings in the living room, he looked inside of the filthy kitchen cabinets, and finally made his way to the bedroom. It was as vile as he remembered it to be, he check behind the paintings, and finally went into the walk-in closet. He pushed aside a row of dry cleaning bags, and there was the safe. Castiel had been right about the man's greed, or so Dean hoped.

He grinned and put on some leather gloves, he set to work cracking the code on the lock. He and Sam had enough experience with these kind of dial locks by now. Dean used to keep a box of discarded safe locks around to practice, and after a while he found it fun, almost relaxing. The first number clicked at 09, he took note and continued onto the next number. After a while he found it, 37. He'd begun to work on the third when his walkie-talkie squalked, "Dean. He's back. Get out." Dean tried to open the safe, but Castiel's voice had blocked out the third number, he quickly dialed the first two back in. He could hear the keys in the front door, and the drunken slurring of two voices, they were both male. He pulled the closet door shut, and worked with a penlight. He finally got it, just as he heard the men stumble into the bedroom. He froze in shock.

"Over here, boy. I want you to throat fuck you before you fuck me," he was panting, mostly due to the exertion of pulling the other man along.

"Oooh, nooo problemooo, I'm gonna get paid, right?" the voice slurred and he heard a body plop down on the bed. He waited for the disgusting sounds to start, groans and wet coughs and sputtering. He tried to keep his dinner down, he'd seen the horrid businessman before, he unfortunately had a clear picture of what the other man was dealing with. He shuddered and focused on quietly taking the stacks of cash out of the small safe. They were in $1000 bundles, and there was seventeen of them. He was so happy he couldn't control his smile. He pulled out his phone and texted Castiel, "I'll be out as soon as the coast is clear. Got 17k." he'd turned off the walkie in fear of the noise revealing him. After a couple minutes his phone buzzed, "Be careful! But horray! 3" he smiled and texted a heart back, he didn't care how girly it was. He was going to buy Cas some flowers and make him a big huge dinner. He even let his mind drift to fixing up the house. The landlord hardly cared what they did as long as it kept the place in working order. Maybe he could but in a nice whirlpool in the downstairs bathroom for he and Cas. He'd have to have to prepped and done while Cas was out of the house, maybe while he took Sam to the doctors. The sound of joined moans brought him back; he looked at the clock on his phone and realized he'd been day dreaming for a good ten minutes. He heard both men collapse on the bed and waiting. After another five minutes two distinct snores wafted through the room. He gingerly opened the door and crept through the room. He held the satchel of money so tight his knuckles were white. After what seemed like a mile long trek across eggshells he slipped out of the front door and broke into a sprint for the impala. He dove through the driver's side door, landing half on the seat, and half on Castiel's seat. It was more than an awkward position, but he grabbed Cas's face and kissed him so hard Cas was sure his lips would be bruised. When Dean finally detached, he sat up and just stared out of the windshield. He looked at his love with a Cheshire grin.

"We did it."

They laughed like mad men as the impala roared home.


	30. Chapter 30

The sounds of the smooth voiced reporter from NPR filled the car. As much as Castiel and Sam both liked Dean's music, it was nice to get a chance to listen to things they liked. If anything Castiel had added a little too much political spirit to Sam Winchester's mended soul.

"Did I ever riot in protest? I think I did. I think I remember the Rodney King riots?"

"No, you weren't there. I promise. It's a residual memory."

"Oh."

They both went back to listening to the radio for a few minutes, the story ended and Sam reached to turn down the commercials, but didn't say anything.

"Sam?"

"Yeah, Cas?"

"Thanks for helping me study in that teaching book."

"No problem, buddy. Thanks for helping me bathe, move, do anything, for dragging Dean and I out of hell, playing on my team on Halo. How did you get so good at that game anyways?" Sam laughed.

"I'm not sure," he laughed too, "but as for the rest, we're family. That's what families do, correct? Help each other?"

"Yeah, but still," Sam paused while he tried to figure out what to say, "You've been really good for both of us. Dean and I, I mean."

"I'm glad."

"It's really nice just hanging out with you. I mean I never really had friends besides Dean until I went to college. I miss just kicking back and playing games and discussing politics and history. Dean doesn't like that kind of stuff."

"I'm honored you consider me a friend, Sam." He smiled a sincere, heart melting smile at Sam. He could see why Dean fell for him. "I feel much the same way; I didn't have many close friends in Heaven. Just fellow soldiers. I would die for them, but I don't think I actually liked any of them. You're my best friend, besides Dean."

"You're probably my best friend too, man."

"I think we're what they call 'bro-mantic.'"

They both laughed, "I'd have to agree," Sam replied. They laughed some more.

"I know it's none of my business, but how're things going with Dean?"

"Well, I'm still pretty angry about his whole 'escort' thing. But better. I know he was just trying to do what he thought was best, and I'm sure he's made it up two fold with all the breakfast in bed and whathaveyou. Jealousy is a very odd emotion. I'm still trying to get used to it, and get over it, honestly." His brow furrowed as he focused on the road, a mixture of confusion and pain on his face.

"He really loves you, you know."

"I love him too."

"You know what he said to me the other night?"

"What, when?"

"The night he stayed late at the garage fixing that old lady's car. He came home and sat with me, hanging out for a while. He told me about the months I was in Hell, after he left you. He said he didn't want to live anymore, that he would have killed himself if you hadn't have come back. Even if I somehow came back on my own, he just felt so empty without you that he could probably never be happy again."

Castiel looked at him with eyes wide in surprise and heavy with sadness.

"He said that every day, even though he thinks it's not possible, he loves you more. It was the most chick-flick I have ever seen him in my entire life. It would have been funny if it wasn't so touching. You two are like vomitiously cute."

"He should be telling me those things, not you."

"You know Dean. His way of showing affection is farting on your head and stealing your beer."

"Point taken."

"If he fucks up again, are you going to leave him?" Suddenly Sam felt like he was a kid again, asking Dean what he did to make dad so angry.

"I don't think I could, I love him too much. And really, that last one shouldn't count because I know he was just trying to help in his own way."

"Good. We've lost enough family. You're like my brother-in-law or something like that. Do you think you guys will ever make it official?" He mocked batting his eyes and held out his hand like a bride holding out her ring to show off. Castiel laughed.

"I'm not sure Dean would be up for that. You know how much he cherishes his 'ladie's man' thing; I think the ring would feel like an anchor to him."

"I don't think that would stop him from hitting on women. I don't think he'd ever cheat, again that is. Frankly I'm surprised Marya didn't just stab him in the throat when he tried hitting on her. Have you seen that girl? She's nuts!"

"I'll take your word for it. Do you see an open parking spot?"

Sam pointed to the handicap space and pulled out his temporary handicap pass as Cas pulled the car in.

In the next town over Dean took his lunch break early and walked downtown. He walked along the row of shops displaying toys and sweets and clothes. He walked into someplace he never thought he would, a jewelry store.

The pretty redheaded clerk rushed to help the handsome man whose hands were splayed on the glass displays as he looked at the sparkling contents.

"Getting married, are we?"

"Something like that," he eyed the pretty girl, and smiled at her. She gave him a mischievous smirk.

"Who's the lucky girl?"

"Actually, it's a guy. My boyfriend." He delighted in people's reactions; they could never stop their jaw from dropping. As if on cue the painted mouth dropped open and the head tried to shake off the disbelief. She caught herself and straightened up and tried not to sound surprised.

"Oh, wonderful! What were you looking for?"

"I was actually wondering if I could get two silver wedding bands made." He smiled as they set to work getting the details down.


	31. Chapter 31

Castiel loved the way the neighborhood looked at sunset. The golden rays painting everything in colors heaven couldn't have begin to show. He'd begun to go on nightly runs. He loved the feeling of running, ever since that day in the forest. It made him feel so alive. His heart pounding, his feet on the pavement, even sweating; they all felt so unique, he'd been human for four months, and he was still shocked at how everything felt, how even repetitive things had unique feelings every time. His evening run became his meditation time. He could just run and reflect on his day and problems he faced, sort through emotions he wasn't used to yet. And most importantly, he didn't have to think about anything at all. He liked that. He liked to be able to just step out of his mind and feel and observe the world around him. It was peaceful.

He saw the impala in the drive way, and ran into the house. He stripped as he walked down the stairs and heard the shower already running. He stepped in behind Dean who was still busy scrubbing is nails clean.

"Hey, you. How was work?" He mumbled into Dean's wet shoulder as he kissed it.

"It was alright, though my shoulders are sore, I'm not sure why. I think I'm getting old, man." He frowned and scrubbed harder at the grease under his nails. Castiel wasn't sure why, but Dean always had an obsession with cleaning his nails, even as a teen. He'd go back to the hotel and scrub all the ash and grave dirt from his nails, even if it took hours. His hands looked clean enough to Cas, so he took the scrubber from Dean.

"Enough, I want you to have fingers left."

"Fine," he kissed Cas, gently pulling him under the stream of water, "How was your run?"

"Refreshing."

They took turns washing each other's hair and body. There wasn't anything sexual to it, it was just a routine of affection they both enjoyed. Cas liked to get up and watch Dean shave in the morning. Dean liked to watch Castiel study. They'd notched each other into their lives, and it all seemed to fit so perfectly neither of them questioned it. They were happy. When they were finished, and had toweled off, he led to the bed.

"I want to give you a massage, lay down."

"What's the occasion?"

"Can't I just do something nice?" He laughed and gave Dean a firm slap on the ass, "Go on, lay down."

Dean smirked and laid down on his stomach, he was naked but the room was warm and comfortable. Castiel dug around for some massage oils and straddled Dean right beneath his bottom.

"I like this already," he quipped.

"Shut up or I'll stop doing nice things for you."

Dean smiled but stayed silent as Castiel began to work knots out of his shoulders with firm hands. The wonderful feeling of pain then relief flooded his body, soon he felt like putty in the able hands.

"Shit, Cas. You've got some healer's hands there; maybe teacher was the wrong fake career."

"I like saving this for you alone." His hands ran over the smooth skin, it was so warm and perfectly tanned. Dean looked so beautiful; his eyes closed, a serene smile on his face, body melting in Castiel's hands. He leaned down and pressed a kiss between his shoulder blades. He kissed gently down Dean's back, and then began massaging his lower back. Years of digging up graves and spent hunched under car hoods had taken its toll and Cas had his work cut out for him. Soon Dean's muscles were smoothed and soothed. Castiel placed more kisses down his back, this time ending on his tailbone as his hands gently squeezed his ass cheeks. He was more than a little turned on from the noises Dean had been making, and seeing him all spread out and pleased in front of him. Dean had become half hard from the sheer relaxation and then feeling Castiel become aroused on top of him.

"Whatchya thinking about back there, babe?" Dean smirked as Castiel's hands continued to run over his firm ass.

"You know, we've never switched positions," he kissed up Dean's back, letting his stubble scrape along the way making Dean shiver, he ended at his ear, "and I really want to take you hard right now." He nibbled on his earlobe gently. Dean moaned at the feeling, and at the thought. He'd wanted Cas to fuck him for a long time, they'd just never gotten around to it.

"Do it, I want you," he mumbled as he leaned up to kiss the other man deeply. As they kissed, Cas pushed one well oiled finger into Dean's ass. He gasped into the kiss. It was nothing new to him, but in the heat of the moment it felt so fucking good. He bit at Castiel's lip and urged him on. Cas pulled away to add some lube before adding a second finger. Dean pushed back onto the fingers, which crooked to stroke his prostate, making Dean let out a guttural moan. Castiel smirked and worked him open, adding a third finger. Going this far was new to Dean, but he couldn't say he wasn't enjoying himself. Castiel pulled the other man up to his knees, Dean's back resting on Cas's chest as they kneeled on the bed. He kissed the hollow behind Dean's ear as he removed his fingers.

"Ready?" his voice low and hot.

"Fuck me, please."

Dean's hands anchored themselves on the headboard to keep himself stead as Castiel pushed up slowly into him. Dean shuddered at the feeling. It was foreign, but he was so relaxed from the earlier massage it wasn't uncomfortable. After a minute his hips pushed back into Cas who grabbed Dean's hips to manage the pace. It was slow and passionate. Pulling himself almost all the way out before sliding back in at just the right angle to stoke along Dean's prostate, making him shiver and keen.

"You like that?" he growled and bit at the crook of Dean's neck.

"More, Cas."

Castiel upped the pace, it would seem frantic if they weren't so in sync with each other. Their bodies knew each other. Castiel's hand slid up around Dean's chest, his hand gently gripping Dean's throat. It was possessive, it was just the right amount of dominance and it drove Dean mad. Cas was still thrusting hard into Dean's spot. Dean reached to his leaking cock and stroked it firmly in time with the thrusts. It didn't take much, within three or four more thrusts he was spilling over his hand, head thrown back on Castiel's shoulder who nipped and sucked on the sensitive skin on Dean's neck. Hearing Dean moan his name breathlessly over and over sent Cas over the edge too. As soon as Dean had finished cumming, Castiel filled him up with his own. He pulled out and Dean immediately missed the feeling.

They collapsed next to each other on the now dirty bed.

"We should do that more often," Dean said breathlessly.

Castiel laughed, low and tired, "I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"Did you?"

"Oh yeah, that was the best idea we've had in a while."

He snuggled into Dean's arms. He was warm and his skin was damp and flushed. He smelled delicious. He started to drift off, when Dean's low voice raised him back from the edge of sleep.

"I have something for you?"

"More than a perfect ass?" he teased as Dean reached into his bedside table drawer. He pulled out a small wooden box.

"Open it."

Castiel sat up and looked uncertainly at Dean as he took the box in his hands. The wood was beautifully dark and polished, it felt good in his hand. He opened it carefully.

It was filled with salt, and in the salt sat two matte silver bands.

His eyes welled with tears, he knew this custom. "Dean? W-wha-what is this?"

"Castiel," he reached to take one of Cas' shaking hands, "You're the most important person do me. You're my best friend, and I fell in love with you the day I met you. At first I resisted, but then I made the best decision I've ever made, I let it happen; I let us fall in love and be together. I know I've done some shitty things, Cas. But I promise you—I vow to you right now that you're the only person I ever want to wake up to again. I vow that you're my partner in life, in hunting, in crime, and in love. And if you'll allow it, I vow to be the best husband I can be."

Dean's glassy green eyes were filled with nothing but passion and sincerity. He raised the hand he'd been holding to his lips and kissed Castiel's ring finger, "Please, Cas."

Castiel's eyes overflowed, he set the box down and grabbed Dean's face and kissed him hard. Tears began flowing from Dean's eyes too.

"Dean, oh my god." Cas whispered as he wiped the tears from his lover's cheeks. Dean picked up one of the rings from the box and took Cas's left hand and slid it on his finger. Castiel took the other ring and slid it on Dean's finger. Both faces were streaked with tears and spread with grins ear to ear.

"So, it's a yes?"

"No shit, Sherlock." He laughed and kissed Dean again.

They laughed and resumed cuddling. Both held out their hand every couple minutes to admire the simple silver band.

"I know it's not much, and I know it's not legal."

"Do the Winchesters even know what _is_ legal at this point?"

"Nope. See Cas, you're already family. Now it's just official."

"I'm glad. I love you."

"I love you too."

They eventually they drifted off in each other's arms, smiles plastered on their faces.

Dean wasn't even annoyed when the phone rang early the next morning.

"Hello?" he said dreamily, still smiling.

"I'm coming down now. It's urgent." Bobby said tersely into the phone before it went dead.

Well shit.


	32. Chapter 32

"Alcohol chilled?"

"Check!"

"Pizza in the oven?"

"Check!"

"Chair on the porch for Bobby to brood in?"

"Check!"

"Air mattress dug out, sheets changed on the down stairs bed?"

"Check!"

"Bobby's estimated arrival time?"

"Fifteen minutes approximately."

"Anything else?"

"I think that covers it, man," Sam said as he wheeled into the living room. "Cas, can you throw me a pencil or something, it itches under my casts."

Cas tossed him a pencil, "What did Bobby say on the phone again?"

"Just that he was coming down and it was urgent. He sounded mega pissed," Dean said as he put more beer in the fridge.

Just then the doorbell rang, Castiel bounded to answer it. He stepped back a little in shock when he opened the door.

"Hey Cas! Long time no see!" Sheriff Jodi Mills said cheerily. There was a small sleepy child balanced on her hip, and Bobby was lugging their bags from his old truck.

"Hey" it was an awkward tone of false cheer and surprise, "Come in, it must have been a long trip." He stood back and let them pass into the house, the sleepy boy hid behind Jodi's leg when she set him down. Cas crouched down and held his hand out, "Hey buddy, I'm Castiel, but you can call me Cas. What's your name?"

The boy looked uncertainly at Jodi who was busy talking to Sam, and back to Cas. A little hand reluctantly went out, "I'm Kale. I'm five."

"Wow! Five! You're getting to be a big man, aren't you?" He smiled at the boy who smiled back behind Jodi's leg. He had Dean's brilliant green eyes.

The adults all traded greetings and pleasantries about the drive, but soon everyone just looked at the boy, unsure of what to do next.

"Is there a park around here?" Jodi asked finally.

"About two blocks down that way," Cas pointed down the street.

"Kale, you wanna go to the park? Uncle Bobby and the fella's need to talk about boring stuff. We'll go get some more coloring books on the way back, okay?"

Kale nodded and held out his hand for Jodi, who waved as they walked out to the door and to the truck.

Dean was brimming with questions and an uneasy feeling, as soon as the door shut he turned to Bobby, "Did you knock up the good sheriff?"

Bobby smacked him on the side of the head, "Shit no, idgit. Grab some beers and a seat, you're going to need both. Cas I want you here for this too."

Dean grabbed everyone a beer and they sat down in the living room.

"I should have known right away something was up. She asked me to watch him for a few days, said she trusted me and only me with him."

"Who did, Jodi?"

"No, Marya."

"What?" three voices rang out in unison. Sam's was of amused disbelief, Cas' of anger, and Dean's of nervous shock.

"She gave me this," he said as he pulled out a manila envelope, "said if anything should happen I should look inside, and I'd know what to do."

"Bobby?" Dean's voice was low and mad, he didn't like where this was going.

"Sheriff Mills called when a body showed up at one of the local motels ripped to shreds; she knew it was our kind of thing. sure enough it was. It was Marya. And from the looks of it, she got into a fierce tangle with some Hellhounds."

"You've got to be joking," Sam blurted out, "Marya would not have dealt with a crossroads demon."

"You're more than welcome to go up to Souix Falls and see whatever's left of her, but trust me, there ain't much."

"What does this have to do with us," Cas asked cautiously. Bobby held out the envelope to Dean who looked at it and handled it as if it were a bomb. He pulled out a piece of paper, it was a birth certificate

_Kale Matias Isomov_

_DOB: October 5t, 2007_

_Mother: Marya Isomov_

_Father: Dean Winchester_

He checked it for all the counterfeit signs. It was real. He looked at Bobby and back at the paper in his hands. The date matched about eight months from their fling.

"She normally slept with women, Dean." Bobby said quietly.

"Shit," he breathed out, his hands were shaking. Castiel took the paper from his hands and examined it. All Dean could think was, of course he'd be the few percent with a faulty condom. Castiel just stared at the "father" line on the certificate.

"Dean, you okay?" Sam asked, he was fidgeting nervously.

"Cas we gotta talk," he pulled Castiel up from the couch and led him down stairs, leaving Sam and Bobby to discuss the situation in hushed tones.

Cas sat on the bed and watched Dean pace back and forth anxiously.

"Dean…" his voice was soft. The pacing continued. "Dean, sit down."

He looked at Cas, his eyes were filled with tears and he sunk to his knees in front of him, "Please don't leave. Please don't let this be a strike." He begged, his hands clutching Cas' and resting in his lap.

"Why would I leave?" he was offended by the idea.

"Because we just found out I have a four year old son."

He looked in Dean's watery green eyes, "That's just a better reason to stay. We just exchanged vows last night. Dean we are each other's husbands. Partners through thick and thin. Am I exactly happy you slept with Marya? No. But that little boy, he's half you. I love him already."

"So we're going to…keep him?"

Castiel laughed, he pictured Kale asking for a puppy one day and asking if they could keep him. He gripped Dean's hands tighter, "Of course we're going to keep him. Dean, he's your son. We're going to raise him." Tears flowed harder, Dean's face kept flashing between happy and horrified, his nose was running and Castiel reached to wipe it with a tissue, "Why are you crying?"

"What if I'm a bad father?"

"You can't be worse than either of ours," they both let out a half hearted laugh. "Dean, you'll be great."

"And you, you'll be his dad too? Not just Uncle Cas, or Cas. If he's mine, he's yours too."

Castiel grinned, "Of course I will." He took Dean's face in his hands and pulled him up and kissed him. He wiped Dean's tears and kissed his forehead. "It'll be okay."

Dean believed him.

They made their way upstairs to find Jodi and Kale returning and Bobby and Sam looking sullen. Both Dean and Cas were smiling.

"Pizza's done!" Dean rang out and served them all. Castiel cut up Kale's into bite size pieces and got him a fork. They all ate and as the meal went on Kale got comfortable. He told Dean all about the deer he saw in Jodi's garden.

"It was huge! Are deers mean?"

"They can be, but mostly they just walk around in the woods and in Disney flicks."

"Could you beat up a deer?"

He chuckled and tousled Kale's smooth black hair, "I could to protect you, little man."

Kale smiled at Dean and finished his pizza.

After dinner they all sat in the living room, Kale on the couch between Jodi and Cas, Bobby on an old blue thrifted recliner, Sam in his wheel chair and Dean on a chair he pulled from the kitchen.

"This is about mama, isn't it?" Kale asked up at Jodi.

"You're smarter than I gave you credit for, sport." Bobby said.

"Yeah, honey, it is." Jodi stroked his hair.

"She said that she might have to go away. I was going to go live with my daddy maybe. I have to follow Uncle Bobby's rules and trust him." He looked at Bobby with steady eyes that were wise beyond his years.

"And you've been doing a great job at following all my rules. I'm sorry to say your mom had to go leave. But Dean," he nodded to Dean and Kale looked at him with a smile, "He's your dad, Kale. You're going to stay with him and Uncle Sam and Cas." Kale looked a little unsure at Bobby, but then looked at Dean and back up to Cas.

"Is that okay, Kale?" Cas asked him.

"Can I still color?"

Everyone laughed, "Of course! We need some art around here anyways!" Cas answered.

"You're my daddy?" he looked at Dean.

"I am. But how would you like two dads?"

"I can do that?" Kale's little mouth dropped open in excitement and he looked at a nodding Bobby and Jodi.

"Cas is my husband, we're married. He's going to be your dad too."

"I didn't know that boys could marry boys."

"They can if they love each other. Is that okay with you?" Dean asked.

"Sure. I love pizza, can I marry pizza?"

They all laughed, "Sure thing, buddy."

Castiel gave Kale a tour of the house, telling him that he was going to have to share a room with Uncle Sam for a while until he got better, but they could get bunk beds. They made up a bed on the couch for him, Bobby and Jodi retired to the basement, and Sam to his room. They put the air mattress next to Kale on the couch and tucked him in.

"If you need anything, we're right here. Kay little man?"

"is there a nightlight?"

Castiel thought for a moment and went to the garage and grabbed some Christmas lights. He strung them on the wall in a loopy "K."

"K for Kale!" the little boy said in glee as Cas plugged them in.

"Yep!"

"Thanks, daddy."

Castiel almost burst into tears with happiness, "Goodnight, little one."

The two men laid on the air mattress smiling at each other for a while, and then they watched their son sleep. After a while, Castiel heard Dean sniffling behind him.

"What's wrong, Dean?" he whispered.

"He's beautiful."

"He is. And so are you." He gave him a gentle kiss. "Now let's get to sleep. Tomorrow we start full time fathering."

Everyone in the house slept pleasantly, and they awoke to Dean and Kale making Mickey Mouse pancakes.

Castiel just watched quietly for a moment, as the little dark haired boy stirred in chocolate chips and blue berries and Dean poured the batter. The boy's hair was black, but their skin was the same golden tan, and they had the same eyes. When he thought no one was looking, Kale snuck some extra chocolate chips into the batter.

He was definitely their son.

Author's note: Thanks for putting up with that dumb glitch yesterday, I'm not sure what happened! I hope you all like this recent development. They'll be more soon fun and games soon. Thanks so much for the wonderful reviews and support. Keep it coming! :D


	33. Chapter 33

"You guys gonna be alright?"

"Cas, we'll be fine. We're having a guy's weekend, not climbing a mountain."

"Can we climb a mountain, Papa?"

"Just don't tell, daddy." Dean winked at Kale who giggled while Cas gave Dean a stern look. "Really, Cas. It's okay, we're just a phone call away. You and Sammy have your bff bonding time on the way to Bobby's and we'll just hang out all weekend. "

Castiel frowned at Dean as Sam walked gingerly over to them, "Ready to go?"

"Yeah, bye Dean, bye Kale." He gave them both a kiss.

"Kale, say bye to Uncle Sam."

"Bye Uncle Sam! You're going to teach me to play basketball next time you visit right?"

"Sure thing, little man." He gave him a high five, his hips were still too sore from the surgery and therapy to kneel down to hug him, but the child seemed more than pleased with the high five.

"Seeya, Sammy!" Dean waved and led his son into the house, "What do ya' wanna do first?" His eyes were bright with mischief.

"Blanket fort!" Kale's voice rang out as he ran off towards his room. Dean grabbed extra blankets from the hall closet and helped Kale hang them from the top bunk and drape them over chairs from the kitchen to make a pretty sweet hide away, complete with tunnel entrance.

"Can I sleep in here?"

"Of course, we're not gonna tear down this masterpiece until daddy comes home. But first it's reading time. Go pick out a book."

Dean was never a reader growing up, Sam had been, and he was on his way to law school. He wanted to make sure Kale understood the importance of books and knowledge, Dean refused to let Kale be dragged into the world of hunting. They'd begun rewarding Kale's learning exercises and chores with a sticker chart, when he got twenty stickers he got to buy a new book. So far it had been working like a charm. Dean had even built him his own book shelf, and now that Sam was gone, Kale had a new one to fill up.

"Can we read this one again?" He held out _Bony Legs. _Dean wasn't fond of this book, he thought it was too scary for Kale, but Kale loved it and Cas thought it was alright.

"You're not going to have scary dreams if we read it before bed time?"

"Nope."

They settled into read the book, Dean making Kale help him read the words. He could practically read the whole book by now, the kid was smart, and Dean was proud. He tucked the sleepy boy in and said goodnight and crawled out of the blanket fort.

It was a nice cool night so he opened the screen door on the back porch and sat down on the couch to work on his hunting book. He was done with hunting for good, he'd decided, but Sam wasn't, and they new plenty of people who weren't. So he'd resolved to turn the journal Castiel had given him into a monster guide of sorts. He'd work on it when he couldn't sleep, or after Kale went to bed and Cas was studying. It kept him occupied. Castiel had an interview at the local high school next week for a history teacher position. Dean liked to watch Cas study. His human eyes required reading glasses and Dean found it ridiculously sexy. Sexy to the point where he'd asked Cas to wear them in bed more than once. Life had settled into a routine. Dean worked at the garage and still did the odd handy man jobs around town. Cas stayed home with Kale and Sam and they all studied and played. He'd be starting kindergarden in the fall and both fathers and son were excited. Kale already picked out his backpack and lunch box. They were both superhero themed. Cas had taken him to see Captain America at the local drive in and the boy had been hooked on superhero movies ever since. Life seemed to be going well for the Winchesters. No money problems, no family drama. For once everything was as sweet and simple as cherry pie. Dean fell asleep with a smile on his face, and tonight was no exception.

It sounded more like a fly buzzing than a screen door being sliced. Fabric screening had been a big bonus to thieves. People thought it was secure, but all it took to breach it was a sharp knife. He'd had his eye on this house for a while. With the shiny black vintage car in prime condition and the two well dressed guys inhabiting it. He saw the car pull away with them earlier, and the only light on was a small lamp in the living room. Surely just to deter people like him. His sneakers made no sound on the linoleum kitchen floor as he crept towards the living room. He could see the nice new TV from here. He kept his knife out just in case they had a dog he somehow hadn't seen.

Even though he'd quit hunting, his keen senses never dulled. The urge to protect even stronger now that he had Kale to look out for. He laid still on the couch as the dark dressed man slunk into the room. Suddenly he was glad for the ugly throw blanket Jodi had knit for them that he'd pulled over himself in his sleep, concealing him to the burglar. He barely breathed as the man moved closer, no doubt eyes on the silver protector statue Dean kept on the table next to the couch to ward off any unnatural evil from the house.

It looked expensive, he didn't know what it was, but that didn't matter. As he reached out for it, a hard hand seemed to shoot out from the couch itself and throw him onto the coffee table. The wooden legs leg out a loud crack as the broke under the force.

The tell tale glint of a knife caught Dean's eye, but not soon enough. He felt the hot pain of it slicing across his arm. He punched the man harder and tried to dodge the slashing arm. He kicked the arm with the knife and sent it flying across the room. Dean lunged for it but the man on the ground caught his leg and pulled him down. Dean pinned his arms, and swiftly and silently twisted the man's neck into an awkward angle. The life left the violent eyes.

"Papa?"

"Kale, go to your room and stay there until I come get you, okay."

Shit, he knew Kale had seen it. He wanted to save his son from this kind of stuff. From violence and killing.

"Pa—"

"Now, Kale!" he felt guilty at his harshness, but he needed the boy out of the room. He picked up the phone and dialed 911. Soon the house was swarming with lights and activity in the previously peaceful night.

"Well Mr. Winchester, the preliminary evidence agrees with your story. It was self defense and we won't be pressing any charges," drawled the sheriff.

"Thank you, Sheriff. I really didn't mean to hurt him so badly. It was just…"

"No need to explain, soldier. I was in a war myself, I know the instinct."

Dean had forgotten his fabricated background and cover story of time in the army. He nodded gratefully to the policeman.

"You just take care of that little boy of yours. My granddaughter plays with him in the park and my daughter-in-law is sure fond of that partner of yours."

People in the small Kansas town hadn't had any problem with two attractive, intimidatingly strong men in a relationship. If they did, no one had said anything. In fact most people loved the Winchesters. "Well hopefully this won't cause them to miss any play days. I'm glad Cas was gone, he's gonna be mad and worried enough as is."

"He's a big boy, he'll get over it," the sheriff winked, "I'll get my men outta here now so you can get some rest. Or try to at least. Thank you for the honesty, Mr. Winchester. Goo'night!"

"Night, Sheriff."

He walked back to the boy's room. He's come to talk to him before the police came but only to calm him down. Now he had some explaining to do.

"Papa, did you hurt that guy?"

"I did," he said regretfully, more for the boys sake than his own, he didn't regret killing someone who was trying to hurt his family, but the boy didn't need to know that. "But he was trying to hurt is Kale. He hurt me first." He held out his bandaged arm for the boy to see. "You should never hit anyone, or try to hurt them unless they're trying to hurt you. Do you understand?"

"Yes, papa."

"Good. You were brave, I'm proud of you." He hugged the boy and kissed the top of his head.

"Does your arm hurt?"

"Yeah, I had to get stitches. Do you know what those are?"

"Mama had to get stitches a lot. Can I kiss it and make it better?"

Dean held out his arm and his son gently kissed the bandage, Dean let out a showful "Ahhh! All better! Thanks, buddy."

"will you stay with me tonight?"

"No doubt."

They snuggled up and Dean held his son close all night. Tomorrow he'd have some serious explaining to do to Cas, but for now all was safe and well again.

author's note: For those of you wondering about Kale's name, it actually means "uncertain." I thought it was fitting giving his parentage and the nature of the relationship. it was purely a coincidence it relates to gishwhes haha. Also I think there are going to be two more chapters and then it'll be over. but you'll have to wait and see what they are ;)


	34. Chapter 34

The constant drizzle wasn't letting up anytime soon. What a disappointing first day of school. He opened the closet and pulled out the old trench coat. He hadn't worn it in so long. But today he was wearing his well fitting black suit, and a brand new blue tie Kale and Dean had picked out for Castiel's "birthday" last week. Kale took issue with Castiel not having a birthday, so Castiel decided to choose the day he became human. It had been a whole year. And even after a year he wasn't used to the human feelings and emotions. Everything felt new and amazing, almost overwhelming. They'd had Kale for six months now, Sam had been gone for three. Everything had settled into place. Cas had gotten the job at the local high school. He was a human, with a husband, a child, a job, and looking to purchase a house. He'd been around since before man, but now he was a man. He was nervous for the first day of classes.

"Hey babe," Dean growled as he nuzzled Castiel's neck and put his arms around his waist, "I haven't seen that in forever." He took it from his hands and slid it over Castiel's arms. "There, look at you. Like the day I met you." He pulled Cas in by the lapels and kissed him. "I'm proud of you."

"And I'm proud of you, Dean."

They held each other just smiling for a while, just relishing being in the arms of love.

"Come on, I hear Grasshopper's alarm clock."

Kale had painted himself green and hopped around in the back yard a couple weeks ago, Dean had taken to calling him Grasshopper. He said they had to rent Karate Kid soon. Cas watched Dean bound up the stairs and heard Kale excitedly scream, "FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL!"

"Go brush your teeth and I'll get the pancakes cookin', okay little man?"

"Aww it's raining!"

"I'll make special pancakes, okay? You can eat the rain clouds for breakfast."

"AWESOME!" he rushed off to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Castiel watched Dean mix cocoa powder into the batter, making it a delicious chocolate brown. Cas handed him a carton of blue berries from the fridge.

"You spoil the boy so," He laughed as he watched Dean pour cloud shaped pancakes on the hot griddle.

"We only got one of 'em, I want to keep him happy as a clam." He smiled over his shoulder at Cas.

"Who would have thought Dean Winchester would be winning Dad of the Year?"

"Who would have thought a fearsome angel of the lord would marry a dude and become a history teacher?" Dean countered. Cas gave him a good natured slap on his perfect ass.

"Are you going to be home for dinner tonight?"

"You bet! Gotta hear all about Kale's first day at school."

"Pancakes!" the boy leaped into his seat at the table and waited patiently.

"Besides, I told the boss I'd work Sunday's if I could be home for dinner every night. He said it was no problem. Actually I get about six extra hours a week in that way," He brought the steaming pile of rain cloud pancakes to the table, "Here you go grasshopper! Eat up those rain clouds, gotta get a good breakfast to be ready for your first day."

"Thanks, papa!"

They all sat down and ate the delicious hot cakes, Dean had to remind Kale to slow down twice he was so excited.

"What are you going to wear for your first day?" Cas asked him

"My Cap shirt!"

Dean laughed, "You should have never taken him to that movie, babe. He's going to give Steve Rogers a run for his money with all that enthusiasm."

Kale smiled at them, cheeks stuffed full of pancakes. Everyone laughed, they weren't going to let the bleak day get them down.

Cas helped Dean with the dishes as Kale got ready.

"He's taking a while, I'm going to go check on him. Can you finish these?"

"Sure," Cas said and kissed Dean softly. He liked doing dishes oddly, he never complained when it was his turn.

Dean knocked on Kale's door as he opened it, "Hey bud, everything alright?"

Kale was sitting on his bed, head hung low staring at his shoes.

"What's the matter, Grasshopper?"

"I'll be the only one who can't tie my shoes. What if they make fun of me?"

"I bet you can read the pants off of those kids though."

"But I can't tie my shoes!" he said, exasperated. "They'll think I'm a baby."

"Hey, you're working on it," he tried to think of something to help the boy, somehow telling him he didn't perfect his Latin exorcisms till he was 19 didn't seem that helpful. "Remember how Steve Rogers couldn't run as fast as everyone else?"

"Yeah…"

"But then he outsmarted them when they got to the flag pole challenge, right?"

"Yeah, but I'm not Steve Rogers, Papa!"

"No, you're Kale Winchester," He looked the boy in his matching green eyes, "and you're even better than Steve Rogers. It's in your soul to be great," he tapped the boy lightly on the chest.

"Even better than Cap?" he looked skeptical.

"A million times better! Ol' Steve-o couldn't hold a candle to you, kiddo."

"Can I be Captain America when I grow up?"

"You WILL be Captain America when you grow up. Now let's get those shoes tied!"

He and Kale tied the left one together; Kale did the right one by himself, a feat that had him feeling ready and excited for school again. He ran through the rain to the Impala and hopped in the back. Dean let him pick out his favorite cassette for the ride to school. Castiel fidgeted with his brief case in the front seat.

"Daddy, are you nervous?" the little voice piped up from the back seat.

"Yeah," he laughed nervously, "A little."

"Don't worry! I'll be right on the other side of the street!"

Dean laughed; the high school and elementary school were adjacent to each other. He dropped Cas and Kale off at the curb of the elementary school, "Good luck, boys!" The impala roared off, earning more than a few slack jawed stares in awe.

Cas reached down to take Kale's hand to bring him to his classroom.

"Ready?"

"Ready."


	35. Chapter 35 Epilogue

Epilogue

Sometimes when he rolls over and sees the man in bed next to him, he remembers all those late night talks in dark motel rooms. He thinks about how their reality now is more than Dean could have ever hoped for. He counts the freckles like he used to. Now he counts wrinkles too. Laugh lines. Grey hairs. He's still the most beautiful thing Castiel has ever seen. Besides their son, that is. Who is grown now, with a wife and making a family of his own. His hand reached out to caress the sleeping man's cheek. The green eyes opened and smiled at him. Yes, they both had more than they could have ever hoped for.

Dean.  
>Dean Winchester worked long hours at a garage, and took fix it jobs to make ends meet. He bought them a house. He saved and saved. When his boss retired and sold the garage, Dean bought it. He specialized in restoring classic muscle cars. He took Kale camping every summer. After Bobby passed, he'd found a mangy mutt roaming the salvage yard. He took it home and named him Bobby. He still sleeps at the end of the bed, and goes to the garage with Dean every day. When Kale was 14, Dean came clean about his past. He watched his son graduate high school, and then college. Years of manual labor destroyed his joints, his bow legged walk is supplemented with artificial knees and hips. His liver took a beating from 35 years of drinking his problems away. But like a Winchester, he's still going strong. But every morning he sees Castiel beside him, he knows he couldn't have done any of it without him. Their silver wedding bands are battered with age, but their love is as steadfast as the day they put them on for the first time. It wasn't the life Dean expected, but it was everything and more than he'd hope for.<p>

Castiel.

Castiel Winchester taught high school for 10 years before deciding to get his doctorate. With Dean and Kale by his side he became a history professor. He wrote several books discussing biblical lore and biblical translations. Every time he was named a controversial author, he and Dean would giggle together on the couch about the irony of doubting a fallen angel. When Dean came clean to Kale about hunting, Castiel came clean about his angelic past. He watched his son grow and flourish. He looked like Dean and Marya, but he took after Castiel's intellectual pursuits. Dean and Cas would lay in bed many a night discussing nature vs. nurture. Eventually it was decided their bond was written into Dean's very DNA, and a bit of Cas had passed to the boy. He experienced the very human miracle of aging. He never got tired of being human, never regretted his decision an ounce. Sometimes he'd wonder what would have happened if he'd stayed an angel, but then Dean would smile at him, or Kale would draw him a picture, and he realized Heaven would have been Hell compared to this.

Kale.

Kale Winchester grew up with his two fathers. He did well in school, and explored hobbies of painting and drawing. When his fathers came clean about their pasts, he also learned of Bobby and Sam's roles in hunting. He went to college, and became a folklore historian and a certified cryptozoologist. He set up shop helping hunters keep the world free of monsters. He wrote and illustrated a book using his father's monster journal and distributed it to hunters. He married another child bred of hunters named Marceline. They're expecting their first child. He still lives near his parents and visits them often.

The end.

Final author's note: Thank you all so much for reading and sticking it out through the emotional rollercoaster this fic ended up being. I hope you are satisfied.


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